Unfrozen
by BrazeRancor
Summary: First Fic: HaloMetroid Crossover. Spartan 117 could only watch helplessly as his body slowly froze over. His heart rate slowed, his eyelids drooped, the feeling in his injured right arm faded to nothingness. And the Master Chief slept. For a long time...
1. Cheque Hunting

**Cheque Hunting**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from this story, except the plot. Halo material belongs to Bungie Studios, Metroid material belongs to Nintendo.**

**Author's notes: This Fic will be written with incomplete knowledge. I haven't played one Metroid game to its full extent and so will be making up a bit, please don't flame for incompatibilities. **

**Thoughts: 'Thoughts'**

**Speech: "Speech"**

**Change in Scene: ………**

* * *

Samus drowsily piloted her ship between obstacles as she satiated her curiosity. She had been greatly intrigued by this system, unromantically named 7345-OR, for some time, what with it being full of old energy signatures and all. Not old enough to interest the regular scrappers, archaeologists and adventurers, too much radiation in the area to make the corrosion repair costs worth the haul. However, the signatures were old enough that people took a second look at their readings. Despite the possible interest these readings might have caused, the system was so far out of the way that no one ever bothered to investigate, as far as she knew. When Samus had first arrived she was greeted by loud radiation warnings and 'Imminent Collision' notices. The system was filled with shrapnel, large, super-dense titanium hulls floating at random, shredded into pieces, still leaking their deadly payloads.

Dodging between two giant floating armour plates, Samus scanned everything she came across, and was beginning to see a pattern. There were two distinct types of wreckage;

One kind was all rectangular and boxy, and was coloured a dark olive-drab. The other type was made out of long, elegant curves and was coloured a glossy, purple.

'Obviously a war was fought at some point, between two distinct races. I doubt that a same species war would use such different technology'.

After scanning the engine fragments from both sides she determined that the olive-drab ships used the ancient fission method to generate their power. However the sheer amount of radiation and heat given off by one nearly intact engine revealed that they had apparently modified and improved their generators to such an extent, as to near the maximum potential for the technology. The purple ships used the more recent plasma generators, but they were obviously of an inferior quality, their pulse coil technology was inefficient.

'That's surprising, statistically; this would put both races on a similar technological level, at leased generator wise.'

She didn't know why this particular piece of information interested her, it was irrelevant and quite frankly wasn't interesting at all.

But she was bored, hopelessly bored.

The initial excitement of potentially being the first investigator had work off hours ago, and being an investigator was what Samus did the most now.

"Damn Pirates," She snarled under her breath, "You all had to go too far! You went and got killed off!"

The Pirates had long been on the decline, their nomadic lifestyle of pillaging systems for materials had taken its toll on their population. Especially after the destruction of Zebes, their only inhabited planet, which itself was only a research planet, not an agricultural one. Finally they had taken drastic measures to arrest their descent into extinction. They armed their remaining population and marched in guns blazing into a peaceful, fertile system in the outer rim, trying to secure themselves a more permanent home while they rebuilt. For decades, the Galactic Senate had turned a blind eye to the pirate attacks; after all one lost system every so often amongst the billions which made up the Federation was no reason to bring out the horribly expensive and unwieldy Galactic Federation Marine Corps. However when this system was invaded there was a snag, a huge snag. A Federation minister was holding an unofficial inspection of the system, and as it was unofficial, he was not in a marked cruiser. If it had been flying government colours the Pirates would have broken off their attack before it had begun and tried again once he had left. Unfortunately for them, it wasn't. And since the system had very little military might of its own, a heavily armed cruiser would be first on the hit list.

It took a while but retribution eventually came, after the Pirates had begun settling on every planet. Then the Federation came down on the Pirates like a reinforced concrete block. The GFMC was sent in, in full force. They dissected every planet, demolished every asteroid belt, quenched every sun and left the system a wasteland. The Pirates were all but wiped out; the remnants were weak, small congregations clinging to life in rusting hulks.

This disaster caused near economic collapse in the wallets of every Bounty Hunter across the galaxy. With the near total destruction of their primary prey, Bounty Hunters had to wait for crimes to be committed before going hunting. There were only common criminals to go after, no longer was there an entire race of born criminals to harvest.

'Not that I have to worry, but single-handedly eradicating the occasional Pirate colonies does pay well.' Samus chuckled to herself remembering the most lucrative hauls she ever made; Zebes, Talon IV and Aether.

Breaking off that pleasing (and yet simultaneously depressing chain of thought) Samus gave the scan screen a glance. Sure enough a big red light was flashing on screen. It distressed her to no end the poetic frequency of these little red lights that seemed to scream cliché.

"Computer! Report search!"

Eying the readout Samus ordered the computer to show the discovery which required the appearance of that loathsome red light. Samus arched an eyebrow. She had found a gold nugget, in a way.

"Ice eh?" she grunted.

Desert worlds were common and often colonised for their high mineral content. However, they could rarely maintain themselves and so needed plenty of offworld support, such as imported crops, and space ice. The latter was vitally important as desert worlds rarely consisted of more than 0.01 percent water. Space ice was worth a huge amount, especially a chunk of this size and density. Scrolling down revealed a less than welcome detail.

"EHHH?! Buried in the centre of an asteroid?! Why would you tell me about it if it was inaccessible you stupid piece of… oh, it is huh?"

Samus was still getting used to her violent mood swings, a psychological product of a huge amount of Phazon exposure, and since she had anyone to take her anger out on on her long solitary voyages, she took it out on her surroundings and inanimate objects. Filing these thoughts away, Samus approached the asteroid, if that's what it was, as far as she knew, an asteroid didn't constitute a bolder the size of a small moon. This particular asteroid was riddled with tunnels and holes, and most of these were wide enough to allow a hauler frigate and a couple of cutter drones easy access. The approach was relatively easy and entering the tunnels was even easier. After flying through the twisting mazes of caverns and halls Samus came upon an obstruction. An oddly featureless wall of scorched rock impeded her progress. Apparently the ice was just on the other side. Samus tapped a few buttons, fired a few energy rounds and frowned.

'Only scarring and buckling, that something rock does not do when shot… artificial?' Samus thought. 'Oh well… out we get.'

Leaping through the upper airlock, space jumping and then attaching herself to the wall, Samus scanned every inch of it, searching for clues to it nature.

"Metal, high grade, low carbon tritanium, superdense alloy…" Samus read these things to herself as they appeared on her HUD. "Primitive defensive measure, high penetration and blast resistance, easily weakened by sufficient temperatures."

'Was this rock a base at some point? If so… there has to be an entrance of some kind.'

The scanning eventually revealed a door… that was fused shut.

'So much for using the door…'

Prepping a charge beam and missile took roughly half a second, and a half second more to produce a satisfying explosion. The rocket dented the door; the charge then ripped into the confined space, cracking the door enough so that Samus could prise it open with her fingers with minimal effort.

'If the door wasn't there it might have taken a fair bit longer to melt through it.' Samus mused, giving a nearby surface a sharp rap with her knuckle. 'It's pretty effective for outdated tech.'

"Now for the prize." She marched forward through the yawning hole.

* * *

**Edit: FINALLY going back and cleaning… should have done it ages ago…**


	2. Objects Found and Limbs Missing

Thawing

**My FanFics will take a while to load between each, because I still can't touch type. So it's probably best to file this one away, and not get super excited about it. But fear not!**

The oppressive gloom of the artificial cavern was, well, oppressive. The two scything beams of light emitted by her suit did little to alleviate the darkness. Shrapnel littered the floor, and the remnants of ancient, obsolete equipment were lying in every place her beams would reach.

'A control room? Armoury?' Samus mused.

Activation of the X-ray visor revealed much of the cavernous room. Enormous steel pipes covered the floor and ceiling before her, before they too disappeared into the gloom. Investigating further through the twisting maze of pipes took little time, as most could be cleared by a single jump. The ice which was her goal would not show up on the X-ray, and so Samus flicked to the Infrared visor, looking ahead for the huge blue smear which would signify her objective. Of course the pipes had cooled to the atmosphere, the coolness of space, and thus made them invisible to the Infrared visor. And so the great Bounty Hunter Samus bounced and smashed her way down the series of pipes, completely at the will of the gravity-less environment.

'Keep calm, just switch back to the X-Ray and get your balance.'

However this was easier said than done, since bouncing along on said visor seemed to inhibit control. After about thirty seconds of this highly embarrassing behaviour Samus' field of view was filled with a blue that seemed darker then that of supercooled space. Samus lashed out with her cannon, penetrating the much sought ice and opened her missile launcher cap so that it gripped like a harpoon.

"Next time, I'm taking the Grav- Suit." Said a very embarrassed Samus, "If someone had seen that… my reputation… gone…"

Assessing the immediate vicinity, which turned out to be the very end of the cavern, Samus noted that fact that the pipes all terminated into a single huge pipe, which ended in the opposite wall. Also noted was the high level of structural damage this section of the cavern had taken, huge rents in the walls were common and craters littered the area.

"God fucking dammit!" Shouted an enraged woman, "There's a freaking tunnel here leading straight to the outside! I'm gonna kill that fucking computer, and that damned red light!"

And sure enough there was a hole, leading straight to the outer caverns of the asteroid. Its smooth tunnel walls were marred by a violent exit hole, which, Samus noted, if extended, reached the ice directly in front of her cutting the great pipe on which she stood.

"A projectile? But if that cut this pipe… then… SHIT!"

A deep penetration scan revealed just what she had been hoping was wrong.

"Hydrogen Dioxide, Carbon Monoxide, Ammonium Nitrate, Helium Nitrate… Fuck! It's coolant! Fucken' coolant!"

Obviously this had been a reactor coolant station, and from the lack of sleek curves and probable interior design, a fission one. Samus dejectedly rested her head on the supercooled coolant.

"All of that effort, all of that sacrifice, my time, my effort… and my pride! Gone! And I can't even sell used coolant!" Samus flicked on her X-ray visor. "Time to go… home?"

The X-rays detected a metallic mass close to the centre of the coolant mass, but resonations in the ice crystals distorted it enough to make it unidentifiable.

'Might as well get a souvenir…' as this sarcastic thought flew through her mind she flicked to the plasma beam and began cutting.

The ice was thick and took a while to cut, and process was slowed further when she neared the object itself, so that it wasn't damaged. As the thickness decreased clarity of what she was seeing became greater. What was initially a shapeless mass had become a rectangular shaped object with a thin half sphere at the top. As progress continued the shape got consistently clearer. After about thirty seconds the shape became very familiar. And very shocking.

'A humanoid? In the ice? What the hell?' A very confused female pondered this development. 'I wonder how old it is, if it's old enough and big wads of cash are heading my way!' A now excited Samus dug faster towards the fossil. 'Maybe things are turning my way again.'

At ten metres from her prize Samus reasoned that she could turn on her lights again without blinding herself with the refraction. Peering forward she spied her target, and for a fossil it was in pretty good nick. A giant, bipedal, green shelled creature glared balefully back at her with its single orange eye. However, upon a closer and more realistic examination it turned out to be clad in some kind of armour or perhaps exoskeleton and the orange eye had turned out to be a visor of some kind. Samus was slightly disappointed by this, she had been hoping for a horrible, demonic creature from the past. Still it was a giant, probably at leased eight feet tall, and would tower over her with ease, and she wasn't a small woman. It was frozen in a contorted position, probably from the blast which had torn the huge coolant pipe to shreds.

When the ice surrounding the figure had been vaporised down into a thin layering, and a small cave hollowed out so that fossil was a freestanding statue, Samus walked around it, studying it with her inexperienced archaeologist eye. At a closer glance she could tell that it was definitely a humanoid species. That gave her some hints for safe transport, like not carrying by its head for example.

"Now, how to extract it? Cut it out or take the whole block…" Stepping forward to look the creature full in what she presumed was its face, the hunter cum archaeologist remarked, "You're gonna give me my next pay check." and switched on her Infrared Visor to check on for any heat damage.

The currently emotionally unstable Bounty hunter leaped backward with a shriek. "ARRGH! I heated the whole thing up, what if it's damaged, what if it's… what if it's … what if it's ALIVE?"

Calming herself took a while, as no one comes along a find like this very often at all.

'That's impossible! The carbon dating on the main blast shield said that it was at leased one thousand years old, but an organic creature can't survive for that length of time, even if frozen.' Now intensely curious Samus anxiously schooled her thoughts. 'Alright. Task: remove creature without killing it.'

Samus glanced at the thin layer of ice covering the creature and decided that the best course of action was to remove it, with her hand, because the plasma beam would fry it in an instant. She reached out to touch the ice around its face and was replied by a loud cracking. The ice began to shatter and eventually the front cover collapsed leaving the creature floating with its hands and feet still bound. Samus was about to free its appendages when a problem caught her eye. The right elbow of the creature was rupturing, and a sickly red liquid was floating way in fat droplets.

"Shit!"

Samus reached to catch the figure and stop the bleeding before blood loss could kill it, since if it had been frozen for this long any shock could possibly kill it. But before she could catch it there was a wet tearing sound...

"Fuck…"

Its arm had torn in half, leaving a stump just above the elbow. A quick flow of more poor quality blood spewed from the wound, followed by bile and puss. 'Gotta cauterize the wound,' Samus thought. 'A tried and true method works best.'

As her brain flicked onto the plan she changed to the ice beam and fired a round just past the stump of the arm, so that the main offensive bolt didn't hit and so that the residue would freeze the wound off from the deathly atmosphere of space. Grabbing the creature under its arms, and shattering the remaining bindings with a sharp rap of her cannon, Samus leapt back to her ship with her charge.


	3. Decisions

**Ice Shards**

**YAY! One out in record time! I'm really getting into this, but mid-years are coming up so there will be a temporary halt. TEMPORARY, just so you read it. **

**Yes I know that a Solenoid is the central coil for an electromagnet. Shaddup!**

**Also, I'm going to blow a fair bit of Metroid Galactic History out of the water, watch the fireworks…**

**Halo-Bungie. Metroid-Nintendo… nuff said.**

**Thoughts: **'Thoughts'

**Speech: **"Speech"

* * *

Samus' mad dash down the tunnel was fun, as being unusually weighted down resulted in a much more complicated series of jumps… and more bashing into things. Eventually, a very irritated Samus had left the generator room, as she had christened it, and re-entered her ship. As soon as the artificial gravity had kicked in Samus was nearly crushed by the immense weight of the alien. After dragging it across to the med-station and placing it onto the metal surgical bench, she activated the med-bot and switched the setting to XENO (SCAN AND REPAIR). The med-station was a fully stocked field hospital, equipped with a med-bot, which was designed to heal and stabilize any organic placed on its bench. With a whirr, several sensor nodes and other types of scanning and testing equipment lowered themselves from the central chassis and began their job. 

A chime sounded and the med-bot switched, using the data it had acquired from the examination, from scan to stabilization. Samus brought up the diagnostic report on the creature and studied it.

_Diagnosis:_

_Subject:_

_Xeno Scan 0002_

_Race: _

_Homo-sapiens. 13__th__ Re-Seeded Colony._

_Artificial Enhancements: _

_S-Class body augmentation (Current regulations have banned this Class of augmentation) _

_Two F-Class cranial chips (Obsolete)_

_One chip in cranial slot A (Data heavily damaged and unreadable at present time)_

_Unidentifiable metal sphere implanted in chest (Invasive surgery required for complete diagnostic. Approve?)_

Samus quickly disapproved this option. She wanted to be able to get to the bottom of this mystery without killing the mysterious personage.

_Gender:_

_Male_

_Racial Status:_

_Extinct (Warfare)_

_Home System:_

_Sol (Deceased)_

_Homo-sapiens from this colony have been designated by Galactic Council as Solenoids_

_Home Planet: _

_Earth (Dead World)_

_Current Condition:_

_Critical_

_Health: _

_Suffering from severe Malnutrition, Still in state of super-hibernation, Blood at critical levels of degradation due to minimal oxygen and vitamin levels (super-hibernation primary cause), severe lacerations to right elbow joint..._

Samus glanced at the inert body. "Shit… his arm… FUCK!"

Samus could not believe that she had left it behind, but there hadn't been time for its recovery. If a body had been in cyrostasis for that long, any violent alterations in its condition could very quickly become fatal. "That arm has most definitely gone to hell by now."

A quick glance at the atmospheric temperature told her that it was too late. The thermometer was skyrocketing. When she had entered the asteroid for the first time it had been in the shadow of a larger asteroid. When out of the sun, the ice would remain frozen and its times out the direct sunlight obviously were not enough to melt it. But the lost appendage had no such defence, and would instantly degrade beyond recovery in the nearly instantaneous heat rise.

"I hope he won't whinge about it when he wakes up." Samus then continued reading the medical report. "I could find a medical lab and get it cloned I suppose."

_DNA:_

_Severe DNA corruption detected_

_Unidentifiable interspecies fusion_

_Cloning impossible_

"Shit."

Reaching the end of the diagnostic report and re-rereading it about twelve times gave Samus some time to think.

'So, he's a 13th Re-Seed huh? I surprised that his DNA was still in good enough condition to read. Interspecies fusion as well as S-class body modification, this guy is pretty well enhanced' Samus herself was a 8th Re-Seed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by another beeping from the med-bot. STABILIZATION NEARING COMPLETION (EXTERNAL COVER REMOVAL REQUIRED) flashed across the display.

'That's surprising. I thought he would be dead by now… Although his condition is stable it's also critical. He's inches away from death and needs urgent medical conditioning which he can't get on this ship. Problem is, any hospital he goes to would reject him after a body scan finds out the extent of his enhancement.'

As these thoughts rushed through her head, Samus gazed at the incapacitated figure lying on the surgical table, with several medical tubes going into his shattered right arm. She tapped a command into the med-bot, and with a whirr, it deployed plasma torches and began the task of cutting away the outer covering.

'Christ that's taking a while.' She thought. 'Must be pretty well made body armour if it can last under cutting torches for this length of time.'

The torches had been working at the armour for the past fifteen minutes, circling around their target, making hissing noises as they utilised superheated streams of plasma to cut chunks from the suit. Another five minutes later, and the suit had been reduced to the flexible yet tough black core covering.

'Now comes the tricky part.'

With the skin of the patient so close to the surface one missed cut could slice something vital. With this noted, and progress slowed down to a crawl, Samus once again looked at the recumbent man lying on the table. Even with the armour broken down to the basics he was huge, a jet black giant.

Another beep. "Damn those are getting annoying!"

With a grunt the red clad bounty hunter walked back to the table and read the readout for the third time.

"Subject will require manual removal of covering? Piece of crap! I bought you so I wouldn't have to do things like that!"

Analysing the sliced up suit that still clothed the Solenoid, Samus sighed and headed towards her armoury that made up one corner of her ship. Standing on the glowing disarmament pad, she placed her arms in two sockets; one to her left the other to her right. The equipment in the holes dismantled the armour on her arms. Once this was completed several clamps on arms descended from the ceiling and stripped the rest of the armour from Samus' body. As the armour was folded away into the walls, the now zero-suited bounty hunter headed towards the other zero-suited human.

"Here goes…"

Reaching for the incision which bisected the man's chest armour the bounty hunter cum archaeologist cum surgeon gripped both lips of the cut and pulled.

"AHHH!!"

With a shriek Samus leapt back as a putrid smell filled the air. A fair amount of skin had come off with the armour and sickly colour blood and bile began erupting out of the ruined flesh.

Three beeps filled the air. And a split second later the med-bot kicked back into action. Hundreds of needles and pipes exploded out of hatches at the bottom the bot's central node, ramming themselves into their patient's chest and administrating urgently needed medication and nutritional attention.

Samus watched with a frown on her face. Being frozen for that length of time obviously hadn't done good things for his health. A once powerful chest was wasted and thin, with a layer yellowy translucent skin covering an unsurprisingly large rib cage. Slightly to the left and down from the centre of his torso was a misshapen cluster of scar tissue. This cluster seemed to extrude other long scars which stretched away from it like so many arms; all trailing across parts of his torso and disappearing under the armour that still covered the human's arms and legs.

The med-bot beeped for the seventh time, once again asking for her assistance to remove the remnants of the black zero-suit. Peeling the left arm free of its binding was easy, except that it involved more shredded skin and bodily fluids. And the right arms was just as easy, as it took only… half the time, although, once again, a fair few strips of skin came off with it. The arms too, had the strange scarring emanating from the cluster, and the stump of the right arm seemed to have completely scarred over effectively trapping the IVs in the crusted skin.

Samus was glad that the man was still in a coma, as the sheer amount of pain would still probably show up though any kind of anaesthetic she could provide.

Willing herself to complete the task she was charged with by a piece of equipment, Samus reached for the legs and lower torso area. She then realised what would be underneath, jerked her hand back and blushed furiously.

'God dammed emotion control!' Samus slapped herself on the cheek angry that she had let her phazon addled emotions take over. 'Shit, get a hold of yourself!'

Still frustrated she tentatively placed her hand on his groin area and pulled the shell from his thighs to his ankles. As she stepped back more IVs plunged themselves into his bare legs which also had the same trail of scars that marred his arms. She had left the groin guard in place, not wanting to rip it off and damage something _important. _The same went for the helmet he wore. Anyway she did not need to access his face at the moment, as he was being fed oxygen directly through his chest.

'The fact that he's not even breathing and yet still has a heart rate is highly surprising…'

Indeed, that fact that his heart rate of one beat every ten seconds was able to support him was a miracle.

The med-bot beeped again for the eighth time and displayed on the screen a message:

AIR SEAL REQUIRED

CHANCE OF INFECTION: HIGH

FULL MEDICAL ATTENTION REQUIRED

After relieving a grunt that signified approval, the med-bot deployed a curtain which sealed itself at the floor and ceiling, creating a sterile environment within which it could keep the Solenoid's condition stable and infection free.

Samus slumped into her command chair, glad that the hectic situation was over, at leased for the moment.

'He needs medical attention, attention that I can't supply him with, and that the hospitals won't supply him with.'

Rubbing her tired, overexcited eyes with her hands, the bounty hunter thought hard, really hard. She didn't want an interesting specimen such as this dieing on her hands, and she needed someone to hep her someone who wouldn't care about his augmentations, or someone who cared enough for her…

"I wonder, they said only to go to them in case of a major emergency, and this isn't really, at leased not from their point of view." Saying these thoughts out loud helped Samus convince herself that she was right about the decision she was going to make. "But they do still crave knowledge, especially ancient knowledge, and that's definitely a subject that this Solenoid would know something about. After all they decided not to join their brethren in their forsaking of technology. They were the ones that built my suit."

The ones who kept their technology and hid from the galaxy, the creators of the Varia Suit, the original inhabitants of Zebes, the Dark Chozo.

* * *

**Man I hated writing this chapter, I re-wrote it nearly 3 times and it kept turning out wrong. Ah well…**

**Did you like my complete bastardisation of Metroid history? And don't worry; all questions will be answered eventually.**


	4. Figures of the Past

**Condensation**

**Disclaimer: The plot is mine, MINE! (Chough) Halo material belongs to Bungie Studios, Metroid material belongs to Nintendo.**

**Sorry about the long update, things came up, my computer crashed and I had my first true case of writers block… damn…**

**Thoughts: 'Thoughts'**

**Speech: "Speech"**

**Author's notes:** **Author's Notes **

* * *

'I wonder what they'll do once we get there…'

Depressing thoughts were flying through Samus' head as she subconsciously navigated her way along a seldom used space way, rusting, dysfunctional beacons littering the way. This sector of the galaxy was nearly completely abandoned, as the quantity and quality of raw materials in this area was all but zero. Samus had only been this way once before, many, many years ago.

When she had fled Zebes under the care of the Dark Chozo.

The Dark Chozo were so named, not because of any inherent evil, but because they were what the other Chozo branded as heretics. When their race had first felt their spirituality wane, they had been deeply troubled. After all, a race of their technological superiority had had no fear of death or destruction, disease or famine. But this was something that could not be cured by science or machinery; it was the decaying of life itself, the erosion of the soul.

The Chozo came to the conclusion that their passion for technology, and that which is artificial, was quickening their decent into extinction. The Chozo knew that all races would eventually die out, wether through war, disaster, or by simply declining in number until they disappeared, and theirs was no different. But they had discovered that somehow their neglect of the non-physical was hastening their decline, the Chozo has lost the will to experience life, there was no wonder left in it for them.

And so they reached the decision which would hopefully save their race.

The entire Chozo race separated themselves from their technology and built refuges where they could live out the remainder of their lives in simplicity. All of them, except for a select few.

These Chozo believed that by forsaking technology and hiding away from the galaxy they were just going to stagnate and die at an even faster rate. They believed that the Chozo had a greater role to play than to simply become figures of folk-law and legend, and they believed that the small child who had come to live among them had a more important task to do, than to waste away and die with the remainder of their race.

These views had been greeted with outrage and hatred.

These newly named Dark Chozo fled Zebes with a small fleet and with most of the Chozo Scientists, all of which did not want their great knowledge and scientific works abandoned. And of course they took with them the small human girl who had somehow become the focus of their journey, and thus, when they arrived at their destination, named her Samus, which is 'Focus' in the Chozo language.

"Why the fuck am I running a monologue here?!"

Rising with a grunt, Samus approached the small kitchen her ship was equipped with, fixed herself a small pack of rations and, after a quick shudder, began to devour the nutritious goo.

'Still tastes like shit…' After two decades of eating the sludge, she had thought she be used to it by now.

Half way the reluctant meal, Samus was startled by a loud scratching noise coming from the speakers. The screens and readouts flickered and fizzed, the artificial gravity turned on and off, and the ship wobbled to and fro along its auto piloted course.

She had entered the Disruption Field.

The Disruption Field was created by a group of artificial satellites placed in a sphere around the major planets of this particular solar system. They rapidly fired off a series of different kinds of radiation on diverse wavelengths. It created a field, through which only light and solid objects could pass. This made any kind of observation other than visual impossible, and given the vastness of space, this too was useless.

This field kept all _unwanted visitors_ away from the system the Dark Chozo called home, and it was easy to pass it of as a natural phenomenon, since the violent spatial disturbances that occurred on the boundary of the field repulsed the few travellers that came across it.

Through this field, the existence of the _modern_ Chozo was kept secret.

Eventually the vibrations got so bad Samus had to strap herself down in her command chair and slow her ship. The distortion was affecting the instruments that kept the Solenoid alive, and would kill him unless she did something about it.

'Oh well, I guess I'm close enough now.'

Reaching for her broadcaster, Samus readied herself for the reply… if there was one at all. "This is Samus…"

Her emotionless voice echoed across the void that was the Disruption field. Hopefully she was close enough to the edge of the Field for the transmission to penetrate. And she hoped that the Chozo would welcome her…

**FLASHBACK: 5 YEARS**

"Samus…" A feathered, clawed hand rested on her shoulder. "Once you have left the Field, you must not return, unless you have the greatest need. We cannot have anyone tracing their way from you to us, for too much rests on our anonymity."

Samus knew that they weren't exiling her, but it still felt like it.

"O'Icun?" She looked to her left as a long, brown beak and a pair of cheerful blue eyes appeared over her shoulder.

"Hmmm?" The ancient Chozo, who had been her surrogate parent since as far back as she could remember, blinked owlishly at her from behind tanned, leathery eyelids. "What is it hatchling?"

Samus chuckled at the pet name she had been branded with since she was a child.

"Thankyou for giving me the chance to do something, something to pay you back for all these years of taking care of me…"

The Chozo began to emit a light clucking sound, he was laughing. "Don't be stupid! You will be the Chozo legacy to the galaxy. I was an honour to have you living among us, it was an honour to raise you and it was an honour to train you!"

The energetic old Chozo was nearly leaping into the air.

'I've always wondered how someone so ancient can act like someone so childish.'

Thoughts like this crowded through Samus' mind as the remainder of the ceremony passed. This was the Designation Ceremony, the ceremony that all Chozo went through when they came of age. It was designed to give them direction in life by outlining the task they were best at, and also the task they enjoyed the most. Despite how misguided this may have seemed, the Chozo were a realistic race. Chozo children often did not come to only enjoy the recreational side of life, and frequently, these fledglings could be seen doing complex chemical equations, and attempting to create more efficient engines in their spare time.

"AND SO, I, O'ICUN, ELDER OF THE DARK CHOZO, HERBY DESIGNATE SAMUS ARAN AS _DEFENDER OF PEACE_!!!" O'Icun bellowed these words out in front of the entire race of the Dark Chozo, all of which had gathered in the cavernous Meeting Chamber to hear the Designation of the young woman who was not only the only sentient being to ever live among the Chozo, but was also known as their greatest project… a one woman army.

Silence filled the room. Samus stared at O'Icun, struggling to keep her mouth closed.

'_DEFENDER OF PEACE_?! What the hell is the old bird thinking, Designating with such a corny line!'

The pregnant pause continued with O'Icun standing at the front of the hall, clawed arms outstretched, and feathered chest puffed with pride.

Then a noise disturbed the quiet of the hall. Everyone's gaze drifted to the front row of the seated Chozo. One Chozo was roaring with laughter, tears of merriment sliding down his face.

"O'Icun you idiot! Only you would Designate someone with something so ridiculous!"

He then straightened, wiped his beak and said, "But I second this Designation, (chuckle), no matter how corny it is."

Once everyone got over the initial shock, the entire hall gradually filled with "Seconds" and the occasional, completely un-witty, "Thirds."

"Well, that concludes the ceremony." O'Icun clapped his hands and motioned to Samus to head down the centre aisle to her waiting ship. As she passed the rows of Chozo, stoic faced, they bowed their heads in reverence as was the custom of the ceremony. As Samus ascended the steps to enter the ship…

"OI, don't come back until every criminal is a pile of space ash, you hear me?"

Everyone in the Chamber deadpanned.

**PRESENT**

The minutes clicked by as Samus waited for a response. She studied each and every button on the dashboard at leased twice and ran an inventory though her mind several times.

'C'mon respond dammit!' Her eyes flicked over to the human lying on the table, still barely kept stabilised amongst the constant electrical disturbance.

Suddenly a voice blared from the speakers, filled with a reasonable amount of distain.

"You should not be here!"

Samus sighed, K'Hala was as angry as ever, and it seemed that only sheer luck that the only Chozo who had never accepted her was in charge of the Field monitoring station.

"Look, just open up a clear way for me ok? I haven't got time to argue with you…" Samus glared at the speaker willing her killer look to go through the wires, out the ship and into K'Hala's face.

The Chozo on the other end of the line squawked with barely contained rage.

"How dare you talk to me like that I…!"

Samus stopped him. "I have what is most likely the last remaining 13th re-seed in my med-bay, but that could change depending on how much medical attention he receives."

K'Hala struggled with himself, natural Chozo scientific curiosity warring with personal anger.

"Fine!" He said in a defeated tone. "But you have thirty seconds before I close the Field again."

K'Hala clicked off with a violent noise, and slowly power returned to her ship, and shortly after, the distortion disappeared.

Samus gunned her ship out of the Radius of the Disruption Field, heading directly for the place she called home.


	5. A Homecoming

**Icicles**

**Metroid… belongs to… Nintendo and Halo… belongs to… (YAWN) Bungie…**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and especially to Digitails who gave corrections, my spelling sucks I know. But whinge is a word, and it was the one I meant.**

**Onward with the story!!**

**Thoughts: 'Thoughts'**

**Speech: "Speech"**

**Author's notes:** **Author's Notes **

* * *

With a jar Samus' ship entered the atmosphere of the small moon which was the residing place of the Dark Chozo. Thick green jungles flew by under the bow of her ship as she followed her guidance computer through narrow canyons teeming with furry fauna. Samus chuckled as she hurtled over the lip of the canyon, barely clearing the trees and sending large, apelike creatures fleeing in terror. Looking ahead into a large empty basin, the three suns that glowed warmly in the tropical summer illuminated a large metal dome which was one of the entrances into what she playfully called the _underground lair_.

Once she was close enough to the structure, the shutters which made up the roof slid back, opening a large airfield to the sunlight. Landing on the tan coloured metal tiles brought a lump of nostalgia to her throat. This was where she had been first introduced to the ship which would be her home for what would most likely be the rest of her genetically extended life.

**FLASH BACK: 8 YEARS**

"Wow!" Samus' exclamation brought forth a chuckle from O'Icun's beak.

"Do you like it?" He asked her this even though he knew what her answer would be.

"Well, I guess. But couldn't it be… uh…"

"Bigger? It is a single crew gunship you know."

"Yeah, but the way you've been going on about it made me think along the lines of a cruiser."

O'Icun clucked in mirth once again. "Do you know how much longer a cruiser would have taken to build? Plus, there is also the fact that a cruiser would need at least one engineer to monitor things. You can't pilot a ship of that size by yourself.

He was once again punctuating his point by flapping his feathered arms.

"And despite how much everyone loves you, none of those self-centred fools are willing to leave their projects."

"What if I can find a partner to help me drive it?"

O'Icun pondered this for a few moments, squinting into one of the three suns that floated above the landscape. After what appeared to be some serious contemplation, he fixed her with a calculating look.

"By my personal opinion, you'll be hard pressed to find someone with similar capabilities to yourself, Samus."

He looked off into the sun once again.

"Alter all, how would you describe yourself?"

Without hesitation she answered. "I'm lucky…"

Samus then too looked off into the evening glow.

"And I always win!"

The conviction in her voice made the elder Dark Chozo snort.

"Only you could be so arrogant as to say that!"

**PRESENT**

Samus dropped gracefully out of the lower airlock of her ship and walked forward towards the waiting group of Dark Chozo. There were four of them, and three were females, each one towering over the sole male in their group. The darkly plumed male stood out amongst the mottled brown females with their ruffled white neck collar.

Before she could approach them the male called out to her.

"Wait! Do not come any closer; we will have to sterilize you and your suit, in case of any external Phazon infection."

The male's voice dredged up a memory which Samus had buried many years ago.

"Tyko? Is that you?"

Tyko had been one of the few Chozo hatchlings she had ever know during her childhood, as her strict training regiment and daily blood transfusions had kept her from socialising with anybody apart from those directly involved with the _project_.

Tyko's feathers ruffled forward to party obscure his eyes in the Chozo form of embarrassment.

"I am glad you recognise me, S'Amus, but I have not been called Tyko in years. I am N'Tyko now."

Samus brought her hand to her mouth in awkwardness, or at least where her mouth would have been if she didn't have her helmet on.

'Shit, I can't believe I forgot about his title! Well, it is a good thing he's relaxed about ceremony, some of these guys would have exploded at me for forgetting something so important.'

Out loud she said, "Well, I haven't been called S'Amus in years either. But I'm sorry about forgetting, I should have known better."

"Ah, do not worry about it." He waved her apology off, but then froze.

"But while we are here exchanging pleasantries you have a critically injured 13th re-seed lying in your med-bay, correct?"

Samus slapped herself on the helmet as she remembered, and N'Tyko winced, since there was piece of complex Dark Chozo equipment being scratched before his eyes. Samus then shook herself.

"Yeah, you might want to grab him."

She frowned inwardly. She should never have forgotten something so important.

'Maybe the Phazon exposure has caused more damage than I thought, more than just unbalanced emotions.'

N'Tyko gave her a worried look as he and his team came out of the hatch, one at a time, followed by the med-bot, which was hovering along behind them like an obedient puppy.

With a smile N'Tyko said, "You did a fine job of keeping him well, given his condition." He paused, and then said, "He should be fine now that he is here, although he does look a bit worse for wear."

The Solenoid lying on the bed looked an incredibly unhealthy figure in the tropical sunlight, as the warm, hearty glow seemed to accentuate his frailty.

Noticing her gaze, one of the females remarked, "He'll be fine once we get that helmet off him, and place him in a med-tank."

"That's good…" Samus looked back at the comatose form, "I definitely want him to tell a story or two."

All three females clucked at this, and N'Tyko clicked his beak in a Chozo grin.

"I see you have still kept your Chozo curiosity." N'Tyko clicked his claws and the dome of the airfield began to close. "Let us see it satisfied."

And with that, he set off towards the maglift.

The place hadn't changed a bit. Great, subterranean halls, coated in gothic architecture, still spread out into an enormous maze. Long corridors which bent with the curve of the planet stretched off into the horizon, immense artificial fields of produce, they honeycombed the crust. It was an enormous complex with a tiny population.

The great Science and Technology Halls were as imposing as ever, filled with great machines of knowledge and construction. And the crèches and living quarters were as empty as ever, with ninety percent of the compounds vacant

'The Chozo are still dying, whether or not they keep their technology.'

Samus was sitting in the med-bay wearing her most casual clothes, looking through the glass that comprised the outside of a med-tank. The object of her scrutiny was a certain human floating in the medicinal goo which filled the container. Pipes and IV's of all sorts covered most of his skin. An oxygen mask covered a rugged, handsome face, and numerous graphs covered the damaged skin on most of his body.

One of the most interesting features of his body was his hair. By what the DNA tests had revealed, his hair should have been brown. Instead, because of his extreme age, his hair was a light silver colour. And his hair was still thick, despite how old he was. Further DNA tests had shown a rough estimate of his age. He was at least 1120 years old.

"What kinds of augmentations have you figured out?" Samus asked the nurse that was keeping an eye on the _subject. _

"It is really incredible the amount of chemicals they placed in his body, here I will run you off a list on the most basic." The nurse threw a data-pad over to Samus, who caught and read it.

_Advanced material grafting onto skeletal structures __detected. Most likely to make bones unbreakable..._

_Protein complex injection detected. Used intramuscularly to increase tissue density and decrease lactase recovery time..._

_Platinum pellet containing human growth hormone catalyst __detected. Have been implanted in the thyroid to boost growth of skeletal and muscle tissues..._

_Artificial blood flow increase detected__ in the rods and cones of subject's retina. Designed to produce a marked visual perception increase..._

_Alteration of bioelectrical nerve transduction to shielded electronic transduction. Three hundred percent increase in subject reflexes. Anecdotal evidence of marked increase in intelligence, memory, and creativity..._

"I would like to point out that such implants would have a high chance of killing the patient. There are other implants as well, and personally I want to find out what that sphere is all about."

Samus looked up from the pad, "The one in his chest?"

"Yes! The scans showed a honeycomb of small cylindrical scars spreading out from ports on the sides of the sphere. But I do not think we should try to tamper with it, just in case he himself can give us an explanation."

Both Samus and the nurse turned as the door slid open and N'Tyko marched in.

"Report, C'Laar!" His sharp command made the nurse stiffen, and she responded with a barrage of medical jargon.

Samus looked at the feathered face of her old friend. He certainly wasn't what she had expected, he very different than his father. Then again his father was an oddity among the Dark Chozo. His playful attitude, incessant use of contractions and poor sense of humour, or any sense of humour at all, were very un-Chozoish.

"How has dear old O'Icun been, N'Tyko? I haven't seen him since I got here."

N'Tyko glanced at her with an odd expression. It seemed almost… _pitying_?

"S'amus, I see no one has told you." He sighed.

"O'Icun, he died two years after you left."

Samus dropped the pad.

* * *

**That was a bitch to write. All the ideas I have in my head are for AFTER the Chief wakes up, so I'm hanging on by the skin of my teeth here.**

**Oh well. Onward to Chapter 6!!!**


	6. Interrupted Sleep Time

**Hoarfrost**

**I'm going skiing during the holidays and so my next chapter may take a while to get up, since I'll be falling down mountains rather than typing…**

**Thanks for all the reviews guys; it's like a shot of caffeine after a hard days work.**

**Because it isn't necessary to my story, I'm going to cut Adam from the plot (the AI not the soldier).**

**I am going to ignore the 'magical' returning of technology from certain games, such as the return of the suit, rocket launcher, morph ball etc, since the normal Chozo wouldn't have had access to that technology.**

**I also might accidentally use contractions when the Chozo are talking. When that happens could you just ignore it? You will? Thanks.**

**Thoughts: '**Thoughts**'**

**Speech: "**Speech**"**

**Author's notes: Author's Notes **

* * *

The nightlights barely kept the pitch blackness from the room, and amongst the many medical machines that beeped and whirred gently in the gloom, a hunched figure sat.

Samus, elbows on knees cradled her chin in her hands, her eyes on the comatose figure that floated in the clear tank in front of her. She looked at him, but she wasn't looking at him, instead her focus was elsewhere.

'Gone… just like that…' her sorrowful thoughts brought a sigh from her lips.

**FLASHBACK: 11 HOURS**

"Dead? What do you mean dead!?" She pointed a finger at N'Tyko. "Don't you dare joke about something so important!?"

He flinched at the anger in her voice, but otherwise met her gaze.

"C'Laar, would you leave us for a few seconds?" The nurse scurried from the room, grateful for a reprieve from the tension in the air.

Crossing his arms, N'Tyko looked Samus straight in the eye for a few seconds before sighing.

"Am I joking? Do you think I am joking about this?" he said it gently, with only deep caring in his voice.

Samus seemed on the edge of exploding again when her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"How did he die?" she said, studying her black combat boots.

N'Tyko walked over to the monitoring desk and threw himself into a chair.

"I do not know. None of us do. Reasonably soon after you left he started getting lethargic. At first, it just looked like he was tired, and so we passed it off as sadness over your departure. But he had not shown any improvement a year later, and some of us started to get worried."

N'Tyko let his scientist nature distract him for a few seconds as he checked the stats on the human still afloat in unconscious oblivion.

"He was not one to let himself be stopped by a little bug, and despite our objections he continued working like he was an adolescent hatchling. He absorbed himself in his work, probably to distract himself from the fact that you weren't there any more."

With a chuckle, N'Tyko continued.

"Remember when you were younger? I remember you spent all your time following him around his laboratory. Quizzing him on the things he was making, trying to make your own by sticking things together with adhesive…"

"Hey, I was a lot younger then." A brief grin flickered across Samus' face before it was once again replaced by a scowl.

"Ah, I see you do indeed still smile. I had thought you had forgotten how."

He gave Samus a scrutinising look and continued.

"You have changed. A lot, might I add. I would have expected a great change in you, after being thrust out into the universe and left to fend for yourself, but not this near complete rewiring of your psyche. What ever happened to the bubbling little female who played with me all those years ago? Who is this hard woman who sits before me now? One who enjoys inciting terror in lower life forms?"

"You saw that huh?" Samus glared at N'Tyko, and he stared back.

"Why did you do it?"

Samus sat down and gazed at the floor. After a few seconds she looked up.

"Because I could."

N'Tyko sighed.

"What caused it?"

Samus leant back until she was lying on the ground. She then fixed N'Tyko with another glare, "This doesn't leave the room."

He shrugged and motioned for her to continue.

"You Chozo have always been very paranoid about Phazon."

The young scientist flinched at this, "Since when have we been 'You Chozo?'"

"Don't interrupt!" N'Tyko quietened, but his face still held the same hurt expression.

"Early last year, this is galactic standard time by the way; I encountered a Space Pirate station in orbit around Tallon IV."

"Colony 19? What happened to the Loyalists? Were they still alive?"

The concern he showed for the creatures who had banished his kind would have been touching if Samus had been in a better mood.

"No, they had evacuated years earlier. All that was left were the ruins."

She chucked, but the sound contained no mirth.

"Isn't it funny? They abandon their technology, hoping to escape extinction, yet get wiped out by the Pirates, and end up extinct faster then the ones they banished."

"I do not think it is funny at all!" N'Tyko snapped.

Samus sobered. "Anyway, after investigating the planet for some time, the reason for the Chozo's evacuation became obvious.'

She paused.

"Not many Chozo would remain on the same planet with a Phazon asteroid the size of a small moon, and a Metroid Prime."

N'Tyko hissed at the name of the parasite.

Looking at him with an arched eyebrow, she continued. "I won't bore you with the details on my little campaign. But when I entered the crater myself I ended up wearing a suit of the stuff."

N'Tyko seemed to inch away from her, despite the fact that he wasn't physically moving.

"You _WORE_ Phazon!?" N'Tyko squawked, a highly odd sound coming from the normally calm scientist.

Leaping up from his chair he scrambled out the room, at least he would have had someone's elbow not caught him in the face and levelled him.

From his position on the floor he looked up into the blazing eyes of a very angry bounty hunter.

"You promised not to tell!" the snarl that burst from her lips carried an immense level of menace.

"I won't! I'm sorry!" In his terror the Chozo dropped his composure and was speaking using contractions. "But you're contagious!"

A look of shock spread itself over Samus' face.

"It's inert, don't worry. It's completely internal." Samus was trying desperately to calm down the hysterical Chozo.

"But the Phazon! It…"

She could understand his fear. The Chozo were not paranoid over Phazon without a reason. Most species either underwent critical cellular failure when exposed, or at least mutation, depending on the severity. Chozo however went into a hyper reactive state when afflicted. The poisonous reaction would cascade throughout their system, killing them instantly, if they were lucky. If not, the victim would enter a state of psychosis, easily capable of sending them berserk. This, coupled with a Chozo's natural strength and agility, plus their razor sharp talons and beak, could be immensely dangerous. But probably most terrifying of all was the fact that the afflicted because high contagious. There had been reports of entire research colonies wiped out because of a single affected citizen.

"Calm DOWN!" The final word was punctuated with a slap.

N'Tyko seemed to seize up for a second, but he then deflated.

"I am sorry…" he refused to look at her; instead his eyes studied the ceiling. "I… I have had some bad experiences with Phazon."

'Who hasn't?' With a grunt Samus sat back on her haunches.

After a few seconds of thought she enquired, "You won't tell anyone will you?"

N'Tyko sat up and gave himself a gentle slap. He seemed back in control.

"How embarrassing…I am a scientist dammit! Not some hysterical hatchling!"

Grinned wirily the scientist rubbed his sore face.

"I have not been myself for some time. Overwork most likely. Curse of my family."

"You won't tell anyone?"

"Hmmm?" He looked up. "No, of course not. I am deeply sorry to have scared you like that."

Both rose to their feet and returned to their seats. They sat in silence for a fair while, trying to sort out their thoughts.

They sat in silence for over half an hour, until, pleading tiredness, N'Tyko left.

"We will talk of these matters later." These were his final words before the door closed.

Samus remained hunched in her chair for many more hours, and remained undisturbed, even as the unseen sun set and the lights dimmed to their lowest setting.

**PRESENT**

'O'Icun gone, N'Tyko scared of me, I may be going out of my mind. Fuck me…'

She looked up into the face of the cause of all this turmoil.

'I had to find you. I came here thinking that it would be a _wonderful _idea. Shit, ignorance is bliss.'

Samus rose, a defeated slump forming in her shoulders.

Addressing the recumbent figure in the tank she said with a grimace, "Night Fucker."

As she approached the door she paused, her years of training and experience coming into play, informing her that something as up.

The Hunter in Red turned.

That _Fucker _had his eyes open.

* * *

**Sob… That was the shittest chapter I've written so far. I HATE IT! HATE IT! HATE IT! HATE IT! HATE IT! Ah well, expect an improvement over later chapters. Sorry.**


	7. Mornin'

**Gone Glacial**

**Sorry for the delay! Camping, Homework, moving, snowboarding, broadband collapse twice…**

**Yeah…**

**I am going to change the Master Chief age. He's roughly forty one when Halo begins but I'm going to make him twenty eight.**

**I don't own either Halo or Metroid, or Disneyland for that matter…**

* * *

'Blurry…'

The thought flittered through his head for a moment, just long enough to be recognised, before it was swallowed by the cloying blackness clogging his mind.

After what could have been an infinitesimally long period of time awareness returned. He tried opening his eyes, but was foiled when his heavy eyelids refused to cooperate.

'Tired…'

The highly intelligent thought seemed to dance in his mind like a hairless, multi-coloured gorilla. Something buried deep in his subconscious gave him the impression that he was someone who didn't really _get _tired.

Natural survival instincts began to kick in, albeit with the speed of a snail under anaesthesia. He couldn't protect himself when he was imprisoned within his own mind. And so he began some mental exercises, although he couldn't actually remember where and when he had learned them because his current mental state was the equivalent of sludge. The exercise he chose involved focusing on the nerves in his appendages and _feeling_ his way deliberately until he either reached the end of the limb or lost concentration and had to start again. It tripled as a self diagnostic, brain jump-starter, and as a concentration strengthener. He started on his right leg, but only managed to get halfway to his knee until the strain forced his already exhausted mind into another coma.

Time passed. How much he didn't know, time really meant nothing in the abyss of his slumbering mind. After numerous attempts he had managed to sense both legs, and his peripheral sense began to develop allowing him the reassurance of physical reality, although he still couldn't command his body to do anything outside his mind.

'Must. Wake. Up.' His sluggish thoughts had begun to come together with increasing speed, and with that came self awareness.

'Floating? Water?'

Before any more enlightenment could come to him unconsciousness pounced once again.

Thought once again flared in the timeless void. He could still feel the slight ebb and flow of the viscous liquid in what he, he surmised, was floating.

'Must test left arm…' He couldn't help but feel a miniscule sense of pride over his completion of an entire sentence, whether it was grammatically correct or not.

He finished the sensing of his left arm in what was most likely only a few minutes.

'Wake up. Dammit.' He was close, he knew it. His peripheral sense had developed a buzz, almost like the electronic whine a T.V. makes.

Something was happening. Something was…

There… A twitch…

'My toe! It moved!'

For the longest time now he had been sending feeble electronic signals to his body trying to get a reaction, and they were finally being detected. His body was wracked by gentle spasms, as long underused muscles flexed and clenched uncontrollably in an attempt to get much needed blood going.

His eyes flickered. It was only for an instant, but it was enough. The room, if that was indeed what it was, was only softly lit, but the tiny glow was enough make it feel like his eyes were being stabbed by white-hot needles, each one the size of a car.

'Fuuuuuuck…' The gentle mental groan bounced around his aching head as he struggled to stay conscious.

'Not now, I'm so close.'

The vibrations caused by his muscles had reached his shoulder, and was currently travelling down his right shoulder.

Then it stopped.

Then a huge wave of pain literally exploded out of his elbow joint, shredded its way up his arm and assaulted his psyche.

Out of reflex his eyes shot open, but the pain brought on by the light was dwarfed by this new attack.

He brought his right hand up in front of his face. Or rather… didn't.

Through his blurred vision he noticed something float away from his face, but of course he didn't _really_ notice it, because he was to busy staring at the abused stump which was apparently his arm.

"Holy Fuck!"

He yelled, or at least tried to, but for some bizarre reason bubbles came out of his mouth instead. Before he could ponder this he inhaled reflexively, and promptly passed out from the miscellaneous liquid he filled his lungs with.

**Different P.O.V.**

Samus stared in astonishment as the human gawked at the remnants of his right arm and bellowed something. Unfortunately for him, when he had swung the remaining half of his right arm to his face, he battered away the oxygen mask that was keeping him breathing whilst submerged.

A look of surprise briefly covered his face, flowed by a glazed look as he was knocked out by the mixture he was inhaling.

As his vitals spiked and dipped the med-bot in control of his treatment sent out emergency signals, alerting the resident doctors and nurses about his condition.

Just as the warning bells began to ring the door flew open and C'Laar rushed by in a blur.

While she dodged around, activating certain functions on the med-bot in an attempt to get the patient stabilised. Samus, standing to the side, watched her efforts with a little bit of anxiety. Despite the human being in the care of the most technologically advanced being of the age, she could still worry about his condition. It was still pretty bad.

One thing that puzzled Samus was where the nurse had been all this time, since she had finished her conversation with N'Tyko hours ago.

C'Laar seemed to appreciate the repercussion her absence could cause because she was hopping along from foot to foot wringing her hands. The med-bot had been given its orders and they had to stand by and let it do its job. Just as it began drawing the fluid from his lungs, utilising a long needle pushed down his throat, more medical personnel began flooding in through the door as well as a certain individual that Samus most certainly did not want to see.

'K'Hala!' Despite the silent snarl she emitted her face remained passive.

Physically, K'Hala was quite average. Short of stature, covered in dark brown plumage with reasonably sharp claws and a beak of normal length was pretty much all that described K'Hala's outside appearance. However it wasn't his outside appearance with made him stand out.

The Chozo stalking into the room seemed to emit an aura of control, one that made others lower their voices and give him at least one and a half metres of personal space at all times. Piercing black eyes seemed to sweep the room and yet not look at anyone in particular. However, eventually his eyes settled on C'Laar and narrowed. He could put a lot of expression into a simple stare for the object of his scrutiny seemed to flinch violently.

"C'Laar? Why were you sleeping?" His voice was light and cheery but seemed to make all the other Chozo stand at attention. He strode forward and the medics filling the room parted in front of him like an ocean. He stopped before the female and stared up at her face, and even though, in regular Chozo fashion, she was quite a bit taller than her male counterpart, she seemed to shrink until it seemed like_ she_ was looking up at _him_.

"S-Sleeping? I was not I assure you."

"Ah, but I distinctly remember you having a doze outside this very room. I remember because I walked past on my way to my lab and saw you there."

C'Laar began to look frantic, "I was just having a rest whilst S'Amus," she gestured in Samus' direction, "had a discussion with N'Tyko."

K'Hala raised an eyebrow. "Really?" His voice was filled with sarcasm, "Because I do recall you sleeping in the exact same spot as I was on my way back from my lab, three hours later. Did that discussion last three hours?"

"I…I don't know." Her distress was obvious, both through her use of contractions and her stammering.

K'Hala's eyes narrowed.

"Exactly!" He hissed.

He turned his back on her. The scientist then looked at the forgotten Thirteenth, who was currently lying on the now dry floor of the tank.

"My assistant will talk to you later about you painful disregard for protocol"

C'Laar bowed her head. "Yes, O'Hala."

Samus gave a jump and her eyes flickered from _O_'Hala to C'Laar and back again.

O'Hala seemed to have noticed her shock, and grinned mirthlessly.

"Oh, S'Amus, obviously you did not know of my promotion. The promotion that happened roughly around the O'Icun's death. Highly convenient do you not think?"

* * *

**I'm REALLY pissed at the moment. I have a bad haircut, just got bands on my teeth, our broadband provider is fucking around and my I-pod is screwing up too****. I wanna go on a jihad against Telstra. **

**This story has gone way off course. But it's better this way. Originally I had it that Samus found the Chief in a Cryo tube, and once he awoke and his arm snapped off he nearly beat Samus to death with it before he passed out from blood loss. Funny how these things turn out heh?**

**Also, further on in the series I'm going to ask for your ideas for the occasional filler, but more about that later.**

**Onward!**

**(If **_**Onward **_**is too corny tell me and I'll stop)**


	8. Pneumonia

**Pneumonia **

**I got lazy… sorry…**

**I own Metroid, Halo and all their affiliates… (Hears the thunder of a thousand lawyers' footsteps…)**

**Oh yes. Later on, after this Fic is finished (I refuse to do two at a time) I'll be doing a Naruto one. I have high hopes for it; however I need a way of converting English to Japanese, in case I need to make names or people or jutsus. **

Everyone's eyes flicked between Samus and O'Hala. Everyone's that is, apart from a certain supersoldier's, who was currently lying unconscious at the bottom of an empty med-tank.

"And what, exactly, did you mean by that horribly clichéd phase?" Samus was giving O'Hala a death glare.

O'Hala rubbed his face wearily. He then turned and addressed the gathered medical professionals.

"All of you," he pointed to the door, "Get out. I'll personally deal with the 13th, which, might I point out, none of you have realised is still unconscious after feeling what was most likely his first attack of phantom limb syndrome."

As one, every Chozo in the room turned and marched out of the room, almost like a military parade.

As the door closed behind their retreating backs O'Hala he leapt into action, pouncing onto the computer and began rapidly firing commands into the processor. It took the _new _head Chozo scientist a grant total of roughly three seconds to send his commands, and knowing ever so slightly how much O'Hala despised vagueness, those commands would have been extensive.

It was for his sheer natural talent for efficiency which placed him at the rank of second greatest scientist in Chozo history, under O'Icun, the most brilliant, if ever so slightly odd Chozo who had ever lived.

Samus' seventeen second death glare turned off as she changed targets to the poorly neglected lump of abused flesh which was currently being hoisted by robotic limbs into a bed. The bed looked like a medicine capsule which had been cut in half lengthways. The mechanised medic dropped the patient in the capsule, which then filled up with foam, whose purpose was to regulate body temperature.

IVs went in, readings were taken and stats were checked.

"All stable." O'Hala said, startling Samus out of her observation. After a few more seconds O'Hala fixed her with a glare.

"Why the HELL are you here." Samus was mildly surprised, Chozo almost never swore.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Do not give me that shit! You were not to come back, ever!"

Samus leant forward in what she hoped was an intimidating gesture. "_That_ wasn't decided! I was to come back if it was an emergency"

"This isn't a damned emergency! You wanted a reason to come back and mess up _everything _I've worked for in the past seven years!" O'Hala was getting more and more agitated, his feathers ruffling and narrowing until he looked like a giant, clawed, beaked enraged echidna.

Samus barked a laugh, "I didn't even know you had been put in position as head of the council. I don't give a shit about you."

O'Hala stood abruptly, his black Chozo robes of office swishing violently around his feet. "You are not supposed to be here!" He began to pace around the room. "You were never meant to be here!"

"What have you been doing for the past seven years? Stewing in your own juices? Chewing over old grudges?"

"Shut up! I never wanted to deal with you again. Life began to return to normal when you left."

Samus stood up as well. "You couldn't bear the fact that O'Icun was a better scientist than you! He was a better Chozo than you! You are inferior to him, always have and always will be."

O'Hala spun around. "You DARE!" He was shaking with rage, his claws clenched and unclenched, and his calculating eyes narrowed.

"This colony wouldn't even exist without me. I created the food, I bred the agriculture we needed to survive, and I even gave you your blood. I was always in his shadow, doing what he asked of me and even took the blame whenever something went wrong. After all, no one would believe that the _greatest genius _ever born could make mistakes. Every time something he made exploded, or went on a rampage, or spurted out so much radiation that the lead guards melted, _I _was blamed for it."

A sneer appeared on his, which was hard to do with a beak. "Although that is not a problem anymore now is it, has not been for several years."

O'Hala flowed to the side as Samus' axe kick came down on the spot he had recently vacated.

"I'm sick of your whining!" Despite the bravado Samus knew that in a close range fight she stood no chance. Having no natural weapons put her at an immediate disadvantage. The Chozo body had hollow bones, a remnant of their ancient flying days, which made them light, fast and flexible, as well as highly developed leg and arm muscles.

Of course O'Hala knew this. "Do not start something you have no chance of finishing."

Samus gave him another death glare, which he ignored. O'Hala returned to the console. After frowning at the screen for a few seconds he sighed. "I am going to decode his language. Once I have done that I will wake him up and get all available personnel onto the task of figuring out what to do with your pet. Then I want him, and you, out of here." He looked up at her. "If you delay, for any reason, I will not allow you back here."

As Samus' eyes narrowed with rage, O'Hala looked her straight in the face.

"O'Icun is not in charge anymore. I am. There are few Chozo you can call your friends. The only reason you were accepted was for two reasons. One, O'Icun had adopted you, and two, you were his greatest project, a potential one-female army, nothing more. Now shut up and let me do my job."

Samus struggled to master her temper. Barely succeeding she stomped back over to her chair, flung herself into it and rubbed her face with one hand. "Hurry it up then."

O'Hala ignored her and placed a small metal plate over the eyes of the sleeping man. It was one of O'Icun's most useful and least offensive inventions. The device, which had never been named as far as Samus could remember, was designed to decode languages of creatures when their language was completely unknown. It showed a semiconscious person images, to which, in their passive state, would think the word, which would then be recorded. It sent hundreds of images a second and could effectively translate a language in a few hours.

Once the process had begun O'Hala stalked from the room.

'Finally, peace and quiet.' Samus looked at the ceiling. 'Damn I'm tired.' She looked for a bit longer. Point 5 of a second later she was asleep, going from alertness to thunderous snoring in a humorous way, which almost seemed to make a _ding _in the air.

…

Time passed, as it had the habit of doing.

Samus' sleep was plagued by violent, bloody dreams. Formless shapes seemed to flit around an empty dead landscape, never taking corporeal form. The dark purple sky broiled as black clouds raced over head at incredible speeds. The scene blurred, and Samus found herself standing in the main hall of an abandoned space station.

'I was born here…" She didn't know how she knew this, it just seemed obvious to her subconscious mind.

The dome that made up the roof of the structure began to groan. It then buckled, stretched and spit, as if a huge, silent, invisible explosion was taking place in slow motion. All at once the remains of the roof shattered like glass, raining billions of little stars down across the floor. The stars could be seen through a gapping hole, along with a huge water covered planet. A few distant yellow suns and a great red nebula coloured the blackness of space.

_Clack, Clack, Clack… _

As the glimmering lights fell a figure could be seen striding towards Samus, indistinct between the light and the blackness of space behind it.

Closer and closer, until the last few shards fell.

Samus' eyes widened.

It was her, but it wasn't her. Different suit, different glow, different mask. Different person.

"Doppelganger."

Before Samus stood the only creature to ever be placed in the extreme threat section of her combat library.

'Shit!' She slipped into her combat stance and raised her cannon.

It wasn't there.

Instead the soft skin of a four year old girl pointed at the face of her greatest threat.

'No, no, no, no, NO!' Samus began to scramble backwards, while Dark Samus marched forward at an increasing rate.

With out any warning the march became a run, which then became…

'Shinespark?'

Dark Samus became a blur, roaring through the remaining space separating them in a second.

With a shriek Samus threw her four year old body backwards, covering her face with her arms.

Silence filled the two seconds it took for her to remove her hands from her face.

The scene had once again changed. It was still the space station, but it was complete. There was no hole in the roof, and the central hall of the station was filled with light. There were also people. Not real people, but shadows of people, all going about their daily business. They all ignored the terrified four year old on the floor in the centre of the chamber.

Then it started. Faint shadows came running through walls which bucked ghostly in silent explosions, and yet the main, corporeal wall remained untouched. It was like a holographic projector with a faded lens. Samus knew what these events were. They were a replication of the day she lost her first life.

Shadowy Space Pirates slaughtered phantom civilians by the hundreds. Gore splattered every available surface, heads literally rolled. Samus just watched with a terrified expression, her seasoned soldier's resolve deserting her in the land of dreams. More and more corpses fell and ethereal blood seemed to fill the room.

Soon it was over, all that remained standing were the Space Pirates, towering over the mounds of dead. Samus just watched as they began leaving, filing with military precision out the main exits. All of them, bar one.

A Space Pirate stopped in front of Samus.

Everything else in the background faded to black, leaving only the single Pirate looking down on her.

"Ridley."

A long fingered metal claw reached for her. This time her mother wouldn't throw herself in the way.

'_Shiiiit!'_

Samus threw herself up off the seat she had been lying in. She then rubbed the sweat from her face, still gasping for breath.

'That damned dream again. I can never remember having it before while in it, and afterwards I always feel like shit, damn.'

She stretched her cramped shoulders, since it's generally quite uncomfortable to sleep in a seat, and looked around for a moment before deciding to head to her dorm for some real sleep.

She walked to the door. She turned around and pointed a finger at the figure sitting on the side of the capsule.

"Don't move until I've had some sleep!"

The figure looked wearily up at her, his long silver bangs shadowing his eyes. He opened his mouth and moaned a few things in what was either his native language or was him trying to vomit up his lungs, she couldn't tell.

"Fine, move, don't give me any sleep for the third day in a row. Inconsiderate bastard..."

**The zombie rises from the dead. TADAAAA!!!**

**Did I make O'Hala villainous enough you rekon? Probably enough. **

**Oh, Samus is wearing black combat boots, baggy pants and shirt with her zero suit underneath. The Chozo all wear black robes. **

**Onward! (Hitches a ride with a hippie convoy to escape the marauding lawyers.) **


	9. Cooled

**Cooled**

**Ahhh!! Negative reviews!!**

**Abandon Fic!!!! Abandon Fic!!!!**

**Just kidding. **

**Soylent, if the Chief just woke up it would be very difficult for me to write a back story for Samus, since the Chief's back-story will be easy to write. Plus if you had read the last chapter, the Chief is actually beginning to get active.**

**MadnessLover, I'm Australian, so an echidna came straight to mind and, since it's the spines I was talking about, what do feet have to do with anything?**

**Agent-G, I didn't add Adam because I wouldn't know what to do with him, and I won't go into great detail about the end of the Human/Covenant war because it would take to long. But things will be explained. **

**White Wolf Zita, John has white hair because whilst his body didn't age physically, biologically it did. Although, that doesn't really make any sense, he has white hair because of 'his extreme age' to quote myself. His lack of beard will also be explained. **

**And the reason I placed this in the halo category is because I have played every Halo game and read all the books apart from Onyx, and so I can be more creative with that part.**

**Plus more people read halo Fics, so more reviews WHEEEEE!!!**

**Some completely new things will be added, so don't flame because of them, k?**

**Back lawyers, BACK!!! I don't own it, I don't! **

**Thoughts: 'Thoughts'**

**Speech: "Speech"**

* * *

"Ah… Damn… my head hurts." John groggily raised his head, rubbing his face.

His ears slowly adjusted to the air again after being sunk in the foam. First thing he heard was a beeping, like buttons being pressed. He looked up, and sitting about five metres opposite him was a woman. Pressing buttons.

John noticed that the buttons she was pressing were attached to the black plate which had obscured his vision when he woke up.

'She _looks_ human, that's a bonus.'

The woman looked up at him, surveying him with her eyes. She then garbled a couple of words into the black plate, waited for a few seconds before chucking it to him.

The plate bounced off his nerveless fingers and clattered to the ground. He still had not acquired proper control of his motor functions.

With muttering, which, by its tone and volume, was probably swearing and cursing, the woman picked the plate off the ground and held it in front of him.

Pressing a button on the side, she waited while complex beeping occurred. Then…

"I. See. You. Have. Woken. Up." It was disjointed and artificial, but it was certainly Earth English.

"I. Am. The. One. Who. Found. You. Inside. A. Block. Of. Frozen. Coolant."

'What the shit? Frozen coolant?' John's thoughts broiled for a bit. 'The base attack, and the beacon recovery, I remember that much. Then there's really not much.'

'Why am I still alive? And what's going on _right_ now?'

He was thinking hard, and so was hardly ready for the feeling of being poked in the face.

"No. Reminiscing."

He sighed. 'Hell, I must be slipping. I would never have been caught by something like that when I was in top condition.' He glanced down. 'Or when I had two arms.'

John pulled himself out of his silence by saying, "What year is it?"

He needed to know whether he had been frozen cryogenically or just iced up.

'But if I wasn't frozen for a few years, where is the UNSC?'

The woman finished listening to a play back on the black plate before answering, "I. Don't. Know. What. It. Would. Be. To. You… To. Me. It. Is. 2075. By. The. Cosmic. Calendar… To. You? No. Idea."

The plate beeped.

The woman sighed. "Good. It's figured out your speech order. That should make things run more smoothly." She leant back in her seat. "To clear up what I said earlier, I don't know what year it is by your calendar. And I doubt we ever will. Sorry pal."

"Huh?"

She barked a laugh. "It couldn't translate that. But yeah, I know what you meant. Basically, you should just forget your old time date, because once the federation got everyone, CC became standard."

The remains of her laugh vacated her face. "I do know, however, that the walls of that instillation I found you in could well be over a thousand years old."

They stared at each other for few seconds.

"So that's why I have white hair..."

"You're taking this awfully well…"

"Hell, I should be dead, that would probably be a bigger shock. Not that I'd know it."

"True."

"Very."

"So… I'm over a thousand years old, huh?"

"Doesn't sound right does it?"

"Kinda creepy."

"How's the arm?"

"The missing one?"

"Yeah."

"…"

"Bad question…"

"You're going to ruin the mood."

"What mood?"

"The casual chat mood."

"This really isn't the time for casual chat."

John sighed, "I've been, well, I _was _in the military for as long as I can remember. Having a casual conversation is something I can't remember at all. Humour me, please?"

"Don't be an ass! You're treating this like it happens everyday!"

"With _my _life, this isn't so unusual."

"BAH! Ditto."

It was a very odd three-way conversation, with each of them saying something, which the translator would repeat, although its speed had increased with the pace of the conversation.

Samus stood up and began to pace.

"First things first." She pointed at him. "I need to know things about you and what you plan to do."

"Plan to do?"

She looked at him seriously.

"It's not everyday a man gets the chance to start again. Make the best of it."

John thought for a moment. 'Epic speech time.'

"Okay, I... Ah..." He looked down. "Could I get some clothes?"

Samus followed his gaze.

"Nice."

"Thanks."

…...

Smuggling a pair of her combat fatigues through the halls to the med-centre without arousing suspicion was a piece of cake, since most of the Chozo avoided her like the plague.

'Guess O'Hala was right. Hn, bastard.'

After opening the door and throwing the clothes and the other human, Samus pulled a grey card out of her pocket.

"Hey, I brought this chip up from the Tech Vault; it's the one they found in your head. The one got broken when I removed your suit."

The Solenoid looked up. "Was it the one in slot A?"

"No, why? The other one is fine. Well, apart from the fact that what ever AI you had in there is _long_ dead."

He seemed to tense up, and the translator still in his hand creaked in protest over the excess pressure.

"Hey, hey! Don't break that!" The pressure eased.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry." He rubbed the back of his head. "I should have guessed. That AI was _nearly _my best friend. Well, as best a best friend as a piece of equipment can be." He grinned. I think she spent more time hanging around in my head than actually doing her job."

"Well anyway, we restored the manual data; the AI files have degraded too much to be repaired. But everything statistical the AI knew is still there."

The silvery haired man pulled on his clothes, despite them being much too small.

"This is a bit uncomfortable." He complained.

"Hell, they're my clothes. I doubt you want to be assaulted by hordes of eager Chozo scientists, so we'll keep your current level of awareness a secret."

"Chozo?"

"They're the people who raised me. Non-human."

"Religious fanatics?"

"No, not at all. Probably the opposite if anything."

He sighed in relief. "That's good. Although, is there anything I should know about them before I meet them? So far nearly every alien I have ever known has tried to kill me at one point or another, and it would be nice to get some prior warning."

"Eh, they wouldn't do anything permanent to you. They're crazy scientists really, and by crazy I mean dedicated… extremely."

Samus frowned at him. "Alright, now that you're wearing clothes, I want your name and junk, ok?

"Only if you give me yours later, ok?"

She smiled, "Sure."

"Ok. Well, first I'll…" He was interrupted.

"HE"S AWAKE!!" Samus whirled to see a highly excited C'Laar pointing with a large talon.

Of course to John it sounded like a whole heap of hysterical squawking from a dangerous looking, oversized chicken.

Samus slapped her face as hordes of eager Chozo swamped the room, surrounding a worried looking human, whilst jabbering at each other.

'No sleep for me again I guess.'

Just as she was about to leave silence filled the room. Punctuated by snoring.

Samus looked over her shoulder. The newcomer was snoring, still sitting upright on the edge of his pod, drool sliding from his mouth.

'He's got the idea…' She left the room, heading to her dorm.

* * *

**I'm so sorry about the delay. And don't worry about how OOC the Chief is, I'll have a reason, it's similar to Samus'. **

**I hope you like. And I'm still waiting on an idea on how to name jutsus from Naruto. Any ideas guys, I'm counting on you.**


	10. SuperCooled

**Super-Cooled**

**It has been drawn to my attention that I may have made the chief a bit to OOC, and you're EXACTLY RIGHT.**

**I should have done it better, I know I could have. Oh well, I'll try to correct it if possible.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I live in a paper bag in the middle of the road. **

**Ha! Luxury!**

**Thoughts: 'Thoughts**

**Speech: "Speech"**

* * *

John dived behind the remains of a stone wall. Leaning against the tan bricks he readied the pistol in his left hand.

'Three… two… one...'

He threw himself away from his cover, rolling into the thick yellow grass, and sighted down the barrel of his oversized, matt-black handgun. The gun was simple; it had a handgrip, followed by a short shaft, which ended with a vertical rectangle with two barrels imbedded in it. It looked like a large H with the tops cut off.

The Chief sat in silence. Despite the disadvantage of having a black pistol in bright cover, the deep shade granted by the enormous trees that dotted the area concealed him completely.

'At least I hope.'

He was wearing a light combat suit, coloured yellow and white in a fairly decent attempt at camouflage. The suit looked uncomfortably like the old Helljumper uniform from back home, the only exception was that the helmet was missing and was replaced by a high collar which reached his nose.

He kept his eyes trained on the ruined building ahead, looking for any signs of red. She'd be there, she wasn't one to hide. The area consisted of a single ancient building, now little more than ancient rubble, which sat in the heart of a bowl which was dotted by the huge, aged trees, carpeted in the yellow grass.

'THERE!'

Spotting her dodge into the centre of the demolished complex, John prepared to fire.

'Three…' His finger tightened on the trigger.

'Two…' He closed his right eye.

'One…' He jammed down the trigger.

Both barrels fired in sequence, filling the space between himself and his target with power beams.

'Got you… wait, no…'

The second before the barrage hit, the target flipped to the side, twisted in the air and fired its own barrage of energy back.

Throwing himself out of the way, he slid down the slope, keeping up a constant barrage in an effort to keep from being picked off. When he hit the flat ground at the bottom of the incline he rolled onto one knee, and scanned the area wildly.

'Shit, gone…' He brought his right hand down and grabbed the second pistol from his holster. 'More firepower is the best option here.'

Blowing a lock of his platinum hair from his eyes, John dived behind a pockmarked pillar and considered his options, letting his military mind whirr.

'Advantages: Speed, stealth, augmentations, superior eyesight, reflexes, two hands.' He looked at his right hand. 'Kind of.'

'Disadvantages: No powered suit, low firepower, low ability with slow projectile energy weapons, no scanners.'

_Click_

John once again rolled out of cover, as said cover exploded into red hot chunks of shrapnel. Unfortunately, the small energy tank attached to his armour was not designed to absorb the small, glowing hot pellets, although his armour could.

'No rockets either.'

Pushed by the force the explosion, John slid to the base of the wall until his back thumped against it.

'Shit.'

He had been backed into a corner. Rolling back onto his feet, again, he ran towards the nearest cover, again. He threw himself down behind it, just as it was sliced in half. The piece of wall tilted and began to fall, onto him.

'Damn.'

He hurled his right arm up, shattering the chunk that was about to land on him.

This also shattered his arm.

Before any comment could be made a yellow foot dropped out of the sky and buried itself in his chest, driving him several centimetres in to the worn paving.

The owner of that foot simply aimed her weapon of choice at John's head and fired a continuous beam of plasma energy into the stunned soldier. His tank drained within a few milliseconds.

GAME OVER

……….

With a sigh John removed the helmet from his head, stood and stretched his limbs.

"You win, again." He looked at the woman, who approached him, holding a data pad.

"That's right." She chuckled, "You didn't get a single hit, again."

Consulting the pad, she read, "Reaction time is up, muscle strain was minimal, aim is good, eye sight is better, but you wrecked your prosthetics for the thirteenth time!" She looked up, "You need to remember that they can only handle eighty kilos of pressure."

"Well, it's not like they were really damaged, it was only a simulation."

"If it was in real life you'd have been screwed, you should have just used your left hand."

"That would have hurt a lot. I also needed my left hand for my Gibreel; prosthetics are no good at fine aiming." He pointed to his right arm, which looked relatively natural except for a raised ring where the sensors met the nerve endings.

"True, not that it made a difference." She said this with a completely straight face. John's eyebrow twitched.

"Sam, you have a suit, whereas I have standard bounty hunter gear. So it's a bit to imbalanced to call it a win, right?" John caught the pad out of the air as it spiralled towards his head.

"Violence doesn't solve everything." He dictated with closed eyes, one finger raised to accentuate the point.

"That's rich, coming from a professional soldier."

The Spartan crossed his arms over his chest. "It was the job I was born and raised for; can you judge me for that?"

She snorted. "Don't sound so offended, you know you love it."

John didn't respond, he only shrugged and tapped his ear.

Samus glared. "Don't pretend it's broken, I now its not." Referring to the ear piece he wore, which was a much smaller version of the original translator. Instead of making noise, it created vibrations, which meant that you could hear what was going on and yet still hear the surrounding sounds. Some nano-specialist had rigged them up for them to use.

With a swish, the door to the cavernous room opened and C'Laar entered, holding her own pad and nano-translator. She clipped it to the feathers near her ear and brought the pad to her face.

"The Mind-Body-Core works well." She said referring to the machine sitting in the middle of the room.

One of O'Hala's greatest creations, the MBC was a recuperation machine, which also doubled as a combat simulator, not that it was used in that form in the relatively untroubled society the Dark Chozo resided in. An enormous, towering mechanism, the MBC used up a lot of the space the room provided. Using an array of high powered sensors, the machine could perfectly simulate the maximum stress a body could take. In order to do this it, through the use of a helmet, _disengaged_ the brain and central nervous system from the rest of the body, while the rest was kept alive through bioelectrical shots. The conscious and subconscious was then thrown into the preprepared virtual world where what ever happened happened.

John had stiffened and stepped away from the Chozo slightly. He was still sensitive around the giant avians, for two main reasons. His natural aversion to xenos bred through years of warfare, and the fact that one of them always seemed to drop a sedative into his foot, shoot a dart into his leg or stab him in the arm with a syringe, just to find out what made him tick. They did it to him as soon as he had finished his first chat with Sam.

He rubbed his eyes, 'My god I was such… such a _civilian_.'

John brought himself back from his thoughts to notice that two certain females were staring at him with odd expressions o their faces. Although C'laar's was more passive than Samus', who had a raised eyebrow, he could tell they wanted something from him.

"What?"

Samus tossed him a cranial chip.

"Another one?" He looked critically at the transparent card held between his index and fore fingers.

After many, _many _years of misuse, his brain had been unable to cope with the rush of knowledge that accompanied a fully filled chip. And so he had all the relevant contained in the chips broken down onto different topics. He then had them slowly added together until he could contain them all.

"That's the last one. The rest of it's all in your head." C'Laar consulted her pad again. "I think that one's called..." She frowned. "Flood-Web? What's that?"

"Huh?" John had just taken his hand away from his head after inserting the chip in the second slot.

He then stiffened up. He then collapsed, no sissy crumpling or falling to his knees, just going from straight standing up to straight lying down.

Samus smacked her forehead.

"This keeps happening with monotonous regularity."

C'Laar nodded.

* * *

**Sorry about it taking so long. **

**I got lazy. **

**Again. **

**Plus I'm kind of making this up as I go along.**

**Not the best strategy.**

**Yeah I suck.**

**Onward!!!**


	11. Liquidation

**Liquidation **

**Thanks for all the reviews guys! Can you believe that this Fic has more reviews than some Naruto ones? Scary…**

**Also, everything which happens has a reason. The chief falling asleep sitting down, **_**not standing up **_**(Agent-G I'm looking at you), was because he got jabbed by a needle, sorry if that didn't make sense. Samus' angry nature is because of exposure, and the Chief happiness is also a side effect of **_**something,**_** (I won't tell you what it is yet.) Actually, I think it will be in this chapter. Who knows? **

**Also, the next one may take a bit longer because I'm gonna re-read Fall of Reach and The Flood because I have forgotten things. And for those who have read Onyx, (Spoilers!! Go Back!! NOOOO!!!), I'm removing the Onyx slip-space sphere, since this is focused on the Master Chief and Samus, and maybe a few OC's. I won't have the mental capacity to bring in the remaining Spartan II's and III's, or Halsey. **

**I do not own Halo or Metroid. (Too late at night to think up decent disclaimer crap)**

* * *

The room was swimming. Whenever one of the shadowy creatures moved around it left purple afterimages. John knew that the shapes were Chozo, they looked roughly like them. He raised his right stump to his face only to hit by a clump of IVs.

'Damn it.' His control was completely out of wack from the painkillers that flowed through his system.

The birds reacted to him moving his arm with a blur of movement. With his senses sliding around his head, he realised that the birds were tying his right arm to the table.

'All this fainting and sleeping and new experiences are irritating the hell out of me.'

He recalled the four months Samus and himself had spent together since he had first woken up from his millennia of sleep. It had taken him a while to acclimatise to his new environment, but the human formerly know as the Master Chief was nothing if not an adapter, and a survivor.

Once all the events surrounding his original awakening had been cleared up, Samus and himself had talked long and hard, about nearly everything.

'Actually, all we really did was some chatting, long enough so that we could have meaning to our conversations.' John mentally stroked his chin. 'Ah well, I guess it was a start. Besides, I like secrets.'

The secrets revolved mostly around the metal sphere implanted in his chest. Having an Ace in the hole was useful.

One of the Chozo forced several doses of fluid into his mouth, which he swallowed without complaint. The room slowly stopped spinning and focus returned.

The figure of Samus swam into view. She was pointing at him.

"Hey, Sam." He grinned sheepishly. "Guess I fell asleep again."

He had started calling her Sam a while back, why, he still wasn't quite sure.

**FLASHBACK: 3 MONTHS**

"N'Tyko should be here."

Samus rested her chin on her crossed arms. Currently they were sitting on the open-air deck of one of the deep jungle observatories. There were a few of them dotted around the planet, solitary research stations, connected to the main underground Chozo facilities by small tunnels. The majority of them were abandoned, but still kept in top shape, since the wearing down of any kind of scientific utility would send any Chozo into hysterics.

The warm beams of the two suns pleasantly illuminated the endless tropical rainforest which extended beyond even John's superhuman sight.

Samus rolled onto her back and shielded her eyes from the glare. "I sent him a message, but he didn't respond, again."

John grunted, not bothering to look up from his pad. Ever since waking up he had been diving into the Chozo archives, absorbing information, facts, history anything which could help him familiarize himself with his new situation. He had also been learning Samus language, 8th. The re-seeds had been a topic of great interest to him; it was interesting to discover that the term not-alone-in-the-universe actually applied to your own race, not extraterrestrials.

"Do you think he's ignoring me?"

John grunted again, to busy looking up slow projectile strategy tactics to really care. If that was one thing he had picked up from the weapons development section of the Dark Chozo library, it was that everyone in the future loved slow moving energy weapons.

'Makes my job easier. Hell, if I can dodge supersonic rounds, sub-sonic balls of energy should be easy.'

John looked up, realising that the other human was still chattering on. God she could be annoying.

"Quit your wining." He commented dryly. "I have better things to do than to listen to you complain."

She had been treating him like some sort of pet ever since their first chat. The obnoxious bounty hunter had obviously gone and taken his initial mood as his normal.

"Shut up!" She snapped, throwing a small miscellaneous fruit at him. They had acquired a small platter of the things from C'Laar, who had been assigned by O'Hala to be John's personal analyser. She was ordered to follow him around and take medical readings of everything that happened to him.

Samus looked worriedly into the distance. "He hasn't responded to any of my calls or messages, hell, I haven't even seen him since he first greeted me."

"I don't care." The Chief growled out. Samus, however, continued like he hadn't said anything.

"And right when I need his support the most, he gives me the cold shoulder. Selfish bastard. Everyone I know is one. That includes you." She pointed childishly at him.

He looked at her with a frown. "Are you insane?"

"Partially." The completely carefree expression on her face made him roll his eyes.

"Well, we'll make a great team then won't we? A recently defrosted fossil and an emotionally unstable idiot." He delivered this remark with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

"Look. I don't want to be your partner, not after you turned out to be such a dick." Samus growled with obvious irritation. "But most of the Chozo want both of us off this planet ASAP. That means both of us. So unless you want to become a permanent test-subject you'll keep on good terms with _ME, _since I have your ticket out of here."

John grinned, "I never really got a change to deliberately wind anyone up when I was a kid."

Completely defused, Samus leant back with a huff. After eating a small, spiky fruit, she asked, "Did you have any friends as a kid?"

"Hmm? Well, I guess, not that I could remember their names, at least the ones I had before being recruited." He picked his nose, looked at his finger and then flicked off the edge of the balcony.

"Of course I had a lot of _friends, _if that's what they were, after being conscripted." He started counting on his fingers, "There was… Linda, Maria, Fhajad, Fred, Kirk, Rene, Li, Joshua, Vihn, Isaac, Will, Kurt, Anton, Malcolm, Grace, James, Sheila, Randall…"

The former Spartan looked at the nine fingers he had standing, before only leaving two upright.

"Then there was Samuel, and Kelly." He said this without taking his eyes of his fingers. "They were my best friends and my team mates…"

He shook his head and returned his face to its standard stoic mask.

"Samuel, eh? Did you call him Sam?" Samus interrupted his brooding.

"Why?"

"Would you call me that?"

"A male name?"

"It can be both."

They chattered. It was not something either of them had ever done to any great extent, since they had both led relatively anti-social lives. In the end he ended up calling her Sam, john didn't know why and _Sam _wouldn't disclose why either.

**PRESENT**

"You have some _more _explaining to do." It was clever how she managed to sound sarcastic through a monotone translator.

'This bastard is getting irritating.'

If there was one major flaw that John had, it was his love for keeping irritating secrets. Aware of how enamoured the Dark Chozo were with his 13th Re-seed supersoldier anatomy, he had kept certain pieces of information secret just to drive them hysterical. It was just his way of paying them back for all the little injections they thought would be fun to administer to him.

He kept tight lipped about the metal sphere in his chest.

At least until now.

"I decline. I-" He had folded his arms across his chest. His one and a half arms. His one and a half arms… with something extra.

John's eyes widened, but he contained his astonishment with ease; after all, a soldier who is freaked easily doesn't live long.

Where the stump of his right arm ended five long tendril-like appendages had emerged from the skin. The tendrils were a deep blue-green in colour and seemed to be coated in a hard yet flexible shell. They were currently coiled around his left arm, acting like regular, albeit extremely long fingers. Fingers one metre long.

"What are those?"

John frowned. "The program wasn't designed to do this…"

He looked up to see Samus standing there with an arched eyebrow, whilst a large flock of Chozo twittered around in the background, wondering at this new development.

With a sigh John conceded.

"Ever hear of a parasite called Flood?"

* * *

**W00T Done! **

**Had major writers block, as well as a severe case of the lazes. **

**I know it's a little far fetched, but I have a good (I hope) fictional scientific reason for these development. So don't flame until it's done!**

**ONWARD!!**


	12. Cold Front

**Cold Front**

**I got Halo 3 and Bioshock. Haven't seen the light of day in… **_**a long time. **_**(Ghost noises)**

**The incorporation of Halo 3 facts will make things difficult, so the next few chapters will be further delayed as I attempt to modify things to fit, but don't expect any miracles. **

**So it's delayed…**

**Nyeh! **

**I can't wait to finish all the story planning and finally get to the adventuring and shooting and hunting and killing and capturing and flying and building and the other stuff I should have gotten to by now.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own nothin'.  
**

**Thoughts: 'Thoughts'**

**Speech: "Speech"**

**Author's notes: Authors notes**

**Change of scene: ……………………**

* * *

"Dammit!" John growled as he once again dropped the ball on the floor. Glaring at it, he once again reached out with his new appendages and attempted to lift the object. The strain of learning to manipulate five new attachments had driven his head into the wall.

Glancing over at him, Samus looked back at her pad and continued to type. Due to John's reluctance to discuss anything concerning his previous life with the Chozo, Samus had once again been appointed as mediator and general information hunter.

So far the guts of her report consisted of the following:

_Flood-web: _

_Complex of biological nano-fibres which spread throughout the host's body, hollowing out small scars to allow quick movement. _

_Fibres consist of immensely dense calcium and magnesium blend, creating fibres nearly as strong as tritanium steel. Highly flexible, the fibres form a web, or cage around any organs and bones they encounter, forming a flexible impact shield. _

_Origin:_

'_Acquired' when subject was injected by Flood infection form._

She really hated writing these impersonal science logs.

_Embryo transferred via bloodstream to a section of the chest cavity, where it was discovered by medics. After it had grown to a sufficient size, a surgical operation was conducted into remove the parasite. When removal was deemed too risky, a cradle was constructed around the parasite in an attempt to contain the infection. _

_Containment Sphere:_

_The sphere has a series of tiny emitters, numbering a total of 153, which hold a microscopic plasma battery cell. Each cell gives off small pulses of highly concentrated plasma radiation (Rho radiation). According to Solenoid research, Rho radiation has a suppressive effect on the growth processes and thought functions of the Flood. (See Johnston Memorial Archives for further details)_

John had given her all the necessary data regarding the treatment and control of his _condition. _He had however, declined mentioning where he got it, both the information and the parasite.

_Cells are energised by bio-electricity generated by the host's body. Therefore as long as the heart is still beating, and sufficient electricity is being passed into the sphere, the Flood parasite will remain dormant. _

_It was discovered however, that a particular pattern of radiation emission could actually modify the original growth programming of the Flood. Thus the Flood-web program was developed, a program which would control the radiation exposure, creating the barrier mentioned above._

_However, if the chip is removed whilst the host is still active, the parasite may return to its original growth processes. _

_Miscellaneous Notes:_

_Growth of 'combat form' weapon was probably an unprecedented effect, not covered by the Flood-Web program. Obviously, when the Flood-Web came into contact with the severed limb it reverted to its primary functions. _

_Subject's collapse when having the Flood-Web re-activated was a direct cause of artificial heat-attack, when the electricity used to beat the heart was momentarily transferred to the containment sphere. _

_Apparently, if a Flood parasite has been cut off from its food source for a significant level of time, it will enter hibernation. This hibernation has an efficiency level of nearly 100 percent, 99.9996 to be exact. This is higher than the cryogenic preservation of dead flesh. This means that a parasite in this form of hibernation is effectively immortal. Surprisingly, some of these aspects were passed onto the host, who, despite his imperfect freezing, survived millennia of sleep. _

'Nice hair though.' It took her a few seconds to realise that she had not only thought that thought but nearly immortalised it in text on her page.

Samus promptly erased that piece of drivel.

_Radiation has slight documented side effect. Subject experiences repeated bouts of slight giddiness. Such effects will be enhanced if subject needs to regrow any portion of the Flood-Web, if it is damaged and requires regrowth._

_When the Subject described this particular piece of information he commented that a colleague of his named Avery was similarly irradiated, and quote: 'Spouted off wisecracks like there was no-tomorrow.'_

With an impatient huff, she finished her report, attached the necessary files John had given her, sent them to O'Hala, shut down the pad and turned only to get hit in the face by the ball the other occupant of the room had been playing with.

She blinked. He blinked. She frowned. He grinned slightly. She threw the ball back. He caught it with his left hand. She threw the pad at him. He pitched backwards out of his seat as it hit him between the eyes.

She burst out laughing as his tentacles finally got the message to jump in the way of the board, only to fly upwards, two seconds too late, and clobber him in the face.

She left the room, a smirk coating her face as he swore loudly, vainly attempting to disengage the tendrils which had stubbornly taken up residence around his head.

She headed to the mess hall, returning the various greetings given to her by the other Chozo wandering the cavernous, gothic hallways. After a while, when none of the Chozo she had been associating with had gone berserk, the Chozo had begun to chat to her like old times, no longer fearing infection.

So too had their initial excitement over the discovery of the last know remaining Solenoid. At first the Dark Chozo had been frantic in trying to gather as much information out of him as possible, since he would leave as soon as things cleared up. O'Hala was getting sick of both of them. But once he had proven less than helpful about revealing any aspect of Solenoid life, culture and technology. Since most of the information on his cards was incredibly intricate and indecipherable, at leased from the Chozo's perspective, they were at a loss of what to do.

Mentally shrugging, Samus turned her thoughts to some of the other problems she was having.

She had asked some of her acquaintances about the location of N'Tyko, but, both fortunately and unfortunately, none of them had seen him. A good thing, because it meant he wasn't avoiding her, a bad thing, because he was avoiding _everybody_.

There was one thing that disturbed her immensely, the whereabouts of O'Icun's Mark. Instead of a grave, which most races used to make their dead, the Chozo integrated the cremated remains of the deceased into their greatest accomplishment thereby immortalising themselves. She had always assumed that he would either Mark the main research archive or maybe her armour or ship. But anyone she asked had no idea where he had been Marked. Apparently only N'Tyko knew, and there had been a huge scandal over his refusal to disclose the location.

She had heard that he had been demoted by O'Hala, and had been the head of the Experimental Energy Division before being reduced to a simple aid. He had actually been K'Tyko for a short period of tie before his demotion.

Samus was infuriated when she had heard the news. She had ranted at John for a while before he told her to leave so he could finish his reading. She had growled at C'Laar who had patiently listened for nearly ten minutes before Samus realised that she had ear plugs in. O'Hala was ignoring her and so refused to answer any questions beyond:

"It was his fault."

She had visited all of N'Tyko's childhood haunts, since she didn't know his adult ones, and so wasn't surprised when her search turned up empty.

Giving up on that she decided to move onto the next phase of her Get-away-from-agro-Chozo plan, since she would have to sooner or later.

…………………………

John was reading an intriguing report, which seemed to consist of 'Ways to Prove That Space Pirates Are Evil.'

'It's its damn title after all.' Despite their technological prowess, the Chozo were obscurely inept at naming things.

Thankfully the book was written in the 8th Human dialect, not the complex Chozo writing, which looked disturbingly like chicken scratchings. He had begun learning the language in order for himself and Samus to communicate better. Oddly enough, 13th English, and its 8th equivalent, were so similar that learning it took nearly no time at all.

While he was reading, he was still attempting to manipulate the ball, and was succeeding admirably. He had gone from having to wrestle with his own arm, to being able to manipulate it like his old hand. The revelation had come, when, during his frantic attempts to dislodge the tentacles from his face, he had knocked a complex decoration off one of the tables. In his haste to break its fall he had reached out to catch using his phantom right hand. And his tendrils had caught it. The answer, it seemed, was to treat them like his old fingers, albeit ones which could extend out to nearly one and a half metres in length, and contract until they were completely concealed by his arm.

Now he was juggling 5 balls, with one hand.

Just after John had deciphered his first paragraph, and found that the report was nearly complete gibberish, Samus burst into the room.

"You're back?" John didn't even look up, too intrigued by the note on the pad in front of him.

Samus however was all business.

"Come with me." She ordered.

"Something happen?" John inquired, slightly irritated that his reading was once again interrupted.

"We need to make some more preparations."

John sighed and put the pad down. He then retracted the tendrils into his arm and reattached the prosthetic over the top. It was pretty uncomfortable, but bearable.

Samus nodded her approval of his accomplishment.

"That's good, it'll save time. C'mon." She said, beckoning from the door. "We're going to get you a power suit."

"I'll need a weapon though." He stated.

She grinned. "Right this way. Oh and don't worry about this particular Chozo we'll be visiting, he's an eccentric, you'll like him."

Samus looked curiously over his shoulder. "Why are you reading a children's book?"

* * *

**There…**

**Didn't like how this turned out…**

**Large amount of Author's Notes to follow (READ):**

**I know that's not really how the Flood re-produce, so I'm sorry but I couldn't come up with a better solution.**

**A question about Halo 3 following, although, if you haven't played it yet you really, really suck…:**

**Someone explain to me how the Halo rings work. According to Halo 1, they wipe-out all sentient life apart from the Flood, thereby starving them to death. But Halo 3 suggests that the firing of the new Installation 04 would kill the Flood and Gravemind. What was so special about Cortana's grand plan? EXPLAIN!!!**

**I would also like to note that shouldn't Installation 04 be Delta Halo, with Installation 05 being Epsilon Halo?**

**

* * *

**

**IMPORTANT-IMPORTANT-IMPORTANT-IMPORTANT-IMPORTANT-IMPORTANT**

**I have already thought of a new suit for the Chief. It will be closely associated with the MJOLNIR VI power armour with a few differences, probably having the EVA armour helmet. And if you don't know what the EVA helmet looks like, you really, really suck…**

**Anyway, I need an idea for the Master Chief's special weapon, or awesome gadget. It can be an enhanced version of any Halo weapon, and if you could give it a cool halo-ish name too, that would be awesome. They'll build it using the information on the chip, because Cortana's remaining files would have a large amount of knowledge on UNSC and Covenant weapons tech. **

* * *

**Examples:**

**Small scale gauss rife, like the one on the Gauss-hog. **

**Name: Guilty Spark (Cause they shoot slugs which look like a bot of lightning, geddit?) **

**Downsides: Needs ammo.**

**Upsides: Purely kinetic ammo, punch through Metroid era energy shields like paper. **

**(Cause the shields are designed to stop elemental damage and energy junk. Ever wondered how Samus could get injured by a bug ramming her?)**

**

* * *

**

**High powered scanning array. Looks like the Hunters spines, but thicker, with reflective panels. Scan wide areas and gives detailed information on targets. **

**Name: Monitor (Because that's what it does.)**

**Downsides: No 733T weaponry, Chief will use special bounty hunter weapons, like a plasma beam cannon. **

**(Awesome, but not unique)**

**Upsides: Ultimate intelligence operative **

**(spy on Samus in the shower)**

**The Chief strikes me as the kinda guy who wants all of his options open. So I suggest, that you don't suggest, any kind of hand replacement weaponry. For example, the gauss rifle would be slung under his left arm.**

**Other possible weapons: Twin-linked Spartan lasers (Yes I do play Warhammer)**

** Two modified brute maulers**

** Brute hammer or energy sword of some configuration (I'd rather not, but it's up to you)**

** Hell, I don't know… a NOVA mine suicide suit…**

**END OF IMPORTANCE-END OF IMPORTANCE-END OF IMPORTANCE-END OF IMPORTANCE**

**

* * *

**

**Onward, with rapidly slowing pace… dammit.**

**And if you skipped these notes...**

**You really, really suck…**


	13. Ice Breaker

**Ice Breaker**

**Bungie, god bless them, owns Halo. Nintendo, all hail them, owns Metroid.**

**Thoughts: 'Thoughts'**

**Speech: "Speech"**

**Author's notes: Authors notes**

**Change of scene: ……………………**

* * *

"Hmm…" John stared back into the piercing brown eyes which were boring into his own.

The enormously tall, grey feathered Chozo which was currently studying John's face at extreme proximity stood up. At his full height he even towered over the Spartan, reaching nine feet tall with ease.

"Such a fine specimen you have come to show me, my dear." He said over his shoulder to Samus, who was sitting in the Chozo's chair filling her nails.

"Would you not talk like I'm not here?" John snapped, brushing his silver hair away from his forehead, revealing a frown.

The large Chozo just back with disturbing speed. "My, he _does _talk. You go from quiet to loud very quickly don't you, little one? And so fluent at 8th too."

"Little?" John asked, his frown replaced by an arched eyebrow.

He glanced at Samus. "Is he serious?"

"Ignore it, it's his private joke." Samus said without looking up from her nails.

John was about to reply with a condescending remark when he had to duck to avoid a huge clawed hand sweeping for his head.

"What the hell?" He shouted, throwing himself to the side to avoid the giant Chozo's other hand as it came sweeping down vertically towards his skull.

"Defend yourself, midget!" the feathered monster cried as he chased the now heavily bewildered Spartan down the length of his cavernous office.

Samus sighed as a flying piece of shrapnel bumped her causing a chipped nail. "Oi! Not so violent, ok?"

"What the fuck is wrong with him!" John bellowed, whilst fending off the crazy avian with a metal pole he had wrenched out of the ground.

"K'Tarr is testing your reflexes and strength. So he can build an appropriate weapons system."

John caught a clawed foot with his left forearm, grunting, since the force that connected resembled that of an armoured jeep smashing into him. "Could we use the simulator or something?" He attempted to sweep his opponent's foot out from under him.

Unfortunately, the Chozo simply lifted his other foot and would have buried it into John's stomach if his artificial hand hadn't gotten in the way.

John winced as the metal bent slightly. He jumped backwards only to realise that the Chozo had jumped with him.

"Shi-" John didn't a chance to finish before a clenched fist bored its way into his stomach.

As John sailed though the air in one of those ridiculously long airborne thought sequences, he realised that the blow, while really hurting his skin and muscle, had not driven the air from his lungs nor caused any noticeable internal pain.

'Shouldn't I have hit the wall by now?' John thought.

'Shouldn't he have hit the wall by now?' Samus thought.

_Crunch_

"Ow…" John sat slumped at the bottom of the far wall.

"Is that all?" K'Tarr said in an upset voice, "When I heard about all your augmentation I thought you'd be a challenge." He turned away. "Oh well, best get ready to build your suit. I'm sure I can construct it to compensate for your weak bod-" he was interrupted as one of his shelves smashed into his back.

"That was a surprise attack!" growled John. His prosthetics were off and he had his penetrators coiled around another loose shelf.

K'Tarr whirled around, somehow managing to split a beaked face with a grin.

"Marvellous!" Both males charged at each other.

Samus just watched the insuring fight with detachment, occasionally dodging to the side as a piece of heavy machinery flew past.

'Fucking testosterone.'

……………………

Nearly fifteen minutes later both John and K'Tarr were in a simultaneous headlock.

"Did I pass?" an exhausted John managed to gasp out.

"With flying colours!" K'Tarr managed to sound exuberant through the three tentacles which were wrapped around his throat.

"If you two idiots are done I would like to get this suit ready!" Samus was standing there tapping her foot with an extremely aggravated look on her face. "I swear K'Tarr you are as bad as you were eight years ago!"

"Never!" He jumped to his feet, dragging a slightly woozy John with him. "I am much more mature now then when I was a fledgling!"

With an injured huff, he turned around; his claws clasped behind his back and walked over to the large computer and screen that made up one wall. It was surprisingly undamaged. Approaching the large key board he cracked his knuckles and began typing, the whole time while whispering to himself.

"Yes… Yes! Spiked? No... Smooth? No! Bulky? Ah ha! Perfect."

He was really getting into it.

With a quick motion K'Tarr span around and scanned John with some sort of hand held device. He wasn't bothered, worse things had happened.

He was still there, his long clawed hands dancing over the glowing keys at an extreme rate, two hours later. During this time the occasional assistant wandered in, regularly passing a curious glance towards both Samus and John, then passing a perturbed glance towards K'Tarr, before either removing some of the wreckage from the room, handing some files to K'Tarr or taking them away.

Samus and John had long since retired to two chairs which had defied destruction. John just looked tired but Samus wasn't having second thoughts. On the contrary, it was refreshing to see a Chozo so exuberant, and well, crazy. K'Tarr was a lot like O'Icun, not surprising since they had been best friends. He had been one of the few Chozo of royal lineage to follow the Dark Chozo, heritage publicized by his enormous size.

"K'Tarr?" She asked hesitantly, "Has N'Tyko come to see you at all recently?"

Looking up from his work, the older Chozo shook his head, looking surprisingly serious.

"No, I haven't. And I'm beginning to worry. It's not like him to up and disappear." A beep emitted from the screen behind him, making him grin.

"Excellent! Armour completed!" He looked up at the virtual armour that had appeared on the monitor and was rotating, showing the view from all angles.

Samus watched as John got up from his seat and wandered over to get a closer look.

"It looks impressive." He said these words without much conviction. The suit was different, unfamiliar. Whilst he was immensely uncomfortable walking around without several inches of armour plating covering him, he was even more wary of wearing a suit of alien design.

The suit was heavily segmented, looking like several rigid plates melded together in some form of ordered chaos. It was also gigantic, halfway between the regular skin suit he was used to, and a full exo-suit. I had a high collar, like most of the suits he had seen, which functioned as a shield enhancer, to apply power to the regularly weaker armour around the head. The helmet itself was very similar to the old Eva helmets that he had used occasionally back home.

"You been digging through my chip?" he asked sharply.

K'Tarr had the decency to look ashamed. 'But it was so interesting…"

John sighed. "Never mind." He looked at the suit for a bit longer. "What stats does it have?"

K'Tarr's eyes lit up again. "Ah yes." He brought up a list on the screen. Not turning away from the screen he said. "Using information I acquired from your files and my examination of your suit, I have retained and even slightly augmented the strength, speed and reflex enhancements provided, but still not as much as it might have had you a functioning AI."

John's face froze at this, but he said nothing.

After a quick glance at him and Samus, K'Tarr continued. "Whilst I was intrigued by your regenerating shield technology, the field provided would be too weak to be of any significant use out on the field, and boosting it to the required level would be impossible as the amount of power needed would be astronomical. So basically you'll be using energy tanks like the rest of us."

K'Tarr rubbed his hands together. "What do you think?"

Samus stood. "I like it." She looked at John. "You'll look good in it."

"I always look good…" He responded distractedly, still looking intently at the screen. His face then broke into a grin.

"That's the spirit!" K'Tarr was once again energetic. "Now what colour scheme do you want? An imposing set of equipment can win battles before they even start." He frowned. "Although winning that way isn't very fun."

The Spartan nodded. "Black and olive drab. I made that decision a long time ago." He had originally wanted black on his MJOLNIR armour, but Gunns wouldn't hear of it.

"And now!" K'Tarr paused for dramatic effect. "For the weapon!"

On the screen appeared a tall cylinder. It had a line reaching around it about two thirds of the way up.

"It thought of the design for this, while I was trawling through the weapons archives you… _lent _us. Now, originally this weapon ran on shards of depleted plasma core, but I have refined it until it can run on the hydrogen it drains from the atmosphere."

He gestured at the base of the cylinder, where a series of vents were placed.

"The hydrogen is processed here." The middle third of the cylinder became a cross section, which was filled with complicated machinery. "If this section takes a hit in a fire fight… S'Amus will be scraping you off the ceiling. But that shouldn't really be a problem, since it will be within your tank radius."

The final third of the cylinder seemed to split along the line, and then proceeded to bend until it was an upside down 'L' shape. Three cables connected the two ends of the split.

"It clamps over your left shoulder." The bent end on the screen seemed to fold into itself, revealing a tri-barrelled cannon. Each barrel was triangular in shape and together formed a larger triangle. "It will have a small level of independent targeting, so using your left arm; it will basically fire with a point-click interface."

K'Tarr shut down the screen. "Your armour will be ready in six to seven days. We'll discuss the remaining stats then."

"I want it to be a surprise."

* * *

**Why?! Why does my writing suck?! **

**One thing to remember about this particular breed of fanfiction is that the personalities of both The Chief and Samus are up to the writer's discretion. I've read fanfictions where the Chief is mindless machine and ones where Samus is a cold hearted killer. Whilst I have no real dislike towards the latter, the former gives me problems. Throughout the three games and the 5-plus books John has shown that despite his harsh military upbringing, he is still very much human, making a few (albeit crap) jokes.**

**There fore, by my designation, the Chief and Samus can act however I want them to. Take THAT Communism!**

**Mobius 1 suggested that I use Ryu's armour. Whilst that is a good idea… well, the Chief's a Spartan, not a Singular Super Ninja.**

**Someone try to guess which Naruto character I modelled K'Tarr on.**

**ONNNNNWAAAAARD!!!**


	14. Getting Back In The Action

**Getting Back Into the Action**

**Yes, I've given up doing crap cold-based names.**

**Thought: **'Thought'

**Speech:** "Speech"

**Change in scene: ………..**

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Do I look like a multimillionaire? Fuck!**

**Has anyone seen Samus' MPC gunship? Awesome!!!! Mine looks like that from now on. **

The fan _whooped _quietly over head, throwing shifting shadows across the area as light peaked between the shattered blades. Smog floated through the rusted steel corridors at waist height, and Samus was glad that she couldn't smell it.

'Okay, let's go.' She began advancing down the path at the end of the fan-room, keeping her heat visor on, searching for her target.

Unfortunately, the area was coated with heat vents, where gouts of flame periodically superheated large areas, and all the metal in the area made the x-ray just as useless.

The corridor ended on a small balcony which jutted into a gaping shaft, which was nearly two hundred metres in diameter, with both the top and bottom of the rough pipe hidden in the dank gloom. Obsolete mining equipment hung in tangles messes from collapsing gantries and ruined lifts, making a suspended arena, complete with death traps.

"C'mon, let's see what you can do!" John was here; her trained gut instinct told her so.

She leapt from her position into the air, jets firing. And not a moment to soon, since the gargantuan armoured figure of John had landed with a grinding thud on the position she had so recent vacated.

With a second boost Samus disappeared into the twisting mess of pipes and cables.

"Close, but no cigar, bitch!" She cackled into her com, giddy with adrenaline. John was just manually scouting for her, trying to get a glimpse of movement amongst the tangle. Whilst he didn't have any visors equipped to his, he did have a visual motion sensor, which highlighted any movement within his field of vision in neon red.

She'd give him plenty.

John was unprepared for the explosion which followed Sam's disappearance. When a large chunk of the floating mess erupted in a shower of flame and shrapnel it streaked his motion sensor with red, effectively blinding him.

Then she was firing. His tank stared dropping drastically as wave beams came streaking out of the black smoke, followed by a barrage of rockets which demolished the platform he was standing on. Finally getting clear vision, John leapt off the falling deck, using the gravity concussion emitters on the sole of his boots, to propel himself off one of the walls of the shaft and onto a half wrecked lift which clung to another wall.

The weapon casing on his back hissed and folded over his shoulder, revealing the tri barrelled cannon.

'Let's give this a try…'

Pointing with a closed fist, he flexed his fingers slightly, and the cannon roared to life. He was, however, unprepared for the recoil, and the shots were sent wide of the spot where he guessed Samus was hiding.

The shots themselves were very familiar. Although he did remember them being pink. The needles were roughly thirty centimetres in length, bright blue and sped through the air like the old bullets he remembered so fondly. Each needle buried itself deeply in whatever obstacle got in its way, sparked slightly, and then exploded in spheres of blue flame.

Two seconds, six rounds. The weapon hissed as it drew hydrogen from the atmosphere. 

A smile spread across John's face.

………

Samus swore as another barrage of hydrogen needles peppered the area where she was hiding.

'Fuck!' A needle buried itself two inches from her foot. The bastard was using the ledges and equipment that dotted the walls of the shaft as firing platforms, assaulting her cover from every direction.

The needle exploded, and her shielding fizzed again, further dropping in strength.

She took a chance. Leaping directly out of the cluster, Samus frantically searched for John.

Unfortunately for Samus, the Spartan spotted her first.

"Shi-" She didn't have time to finish. Only visible as a blur, the Solenoid appeared in front of her, and gave her gut a vicious punch.

Being hammered by a heavy armoured fist, accelerated by enhanced muscles and advanced power servos is very noticeable.

The screech of draining power filled her ears as she flew nearly vertically into the air.

'If this wasn't a simulation…That would have hurt. And then I'd get to rip his balls off.'

With a clang her arcing flight ended. A quick glance around revealed that John hadn't followed her, or had yet to.

'He's gonna regret that…'

Wobbling to her feet Samus took stock of her situation.

_Tank: 13 percent capacity_

_Ammunition: Rocket stores at 35 percent, other beams 24 percent_

Not looking good.

'I need something, anything, to turn this around…' She was determined to win

………

John was following. He had taken the cautionary route, fully aware that Samus had developed the uncanny ability of pulling victories out of her ass.

A soft warble was audible over the com, interference from what was most likely a scan visor in activation.

'That was it.' Taking cover in an access tunnel he prepared. 'She hasn't got much energy left. I can afford to wait.'

A whir began echoing down the hall. Slightly started, John nevertheless continued to watch for the red suited hunter.

'Didn't think there was any power here…' Surprisingly, out of the gloom, now highlighted in red, was a large cylindrical platform. It descended on four metal cables until it was almost level with him.

"She's up to something."

Talking to himself always seemed to calm him, why he didn't know. It was probably because he was used to someone answering back.

Sam's head was whipping around; it looked like she was looking for him.

John then realised what the bounty hunter was standing on. What had initially looked like a long cylinder was actually a large borer. A rocket powered borer. Samus' head turned, and John could almost see her smile through her helmet. Then the jets ignited, driving it forward towards him.

………

Samus watched with satisfaction as the large drilling device disappeared down the tunnel, hot on the heels of a fleeing John.

There was a thud.

Then a huge ball of blue and red fire billowed out of the entrance the drill had so recently entered.

………

John was running flat out down the corridor, the whirring maw of steel and death on his heels. But he didn't yell, shout or swear. Such things were beneath him in the heat of the moment.

He glanced over his shoulder.

'Still there…'

Bringing up his HUD he selected power output and set the legs servos to the max. Immediately red lights began going off, with warnings appearing in red across his vision.

_Ten seconds until meltdown…_

Immediately he picked up speed, pulling away from the spinning blades.

_Nine seconds until meltdown…_

Up ahead there was a slight widening of the passage, but only by about half a metre. Not enough to dodge in.

_Eight seconds until meltdown…_

He pulled away further.

_Seven seconds until meltdown…_

Further.

_Six seconds until meltdown…_

Further.

_Five seconds until meltdown…_

With a leap, John surged forward, whilst beginning to turn.

_Four seconds until meltdown…_

_Secondary firing mode: activated_

_Three seconds until meltdown…_

The gun changed. What used to be a tri-barrelled cannon changed shape until it was just a single triangle. With a hiss three blue filled fuel rods rose on the left side of the base of the cannon.

_Two seconds until meltdown…_

He fired.

_One second until meltdown…_

A blue beam of what looked like liquid flame billowed out of the muzzle into the waiting maw. As the beam struck the spinning blades it crystallised, coating the whirring metal with turquoise glass. Which was instantly sucked onto the belly of the machine.

Which then exploded.

………

A quick peak down the tunnel revealed nothing but black smoke and rubble.

Samus advanced cautiously down the tunnel following the trail of destruction wrought by the runaway drill.

"Ouch… You're in a bad way."

At the very end of the corridor, John was pinned up amongst the shredded walls by a large metal plate that had pierced his shoulder, and by extension crushed the entire left side of his body. Simulated blood was pooling on the floor around his mangled left leg.

"Hurry up an' die already." She approached him.

Not the best decision she'd ever made.

John's right foot slammed down, knocking a chunk of concrete into the air. He then sent it soaring at Samus' head with a gravity enhanced kick.

And that was it.

She dodged, and John rammed one of his tentacles through her skull…

**GAME OVER**

………

"I think swearing at me over something like this is a little bit harsh." The victorious Spartan whimsically followed Samus out of the door.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up!"

"Just because I won the final contest-"

"You cheap bastard! I had that in the bag! IN THE BAG! And you just stab me in the face at the last moment! Your bleed-out countdown only had three seconds remaining!"

"Excuse me?"

The two quarrelling marksmen looked up.

"Yes, C'Laar?" Samus asked with a sigh, glad for an interruption. Her fights with John had been getting to comfortable for her tastes.

"K'Tarr is back. He is looking for you."

**A few things…**

**The Chief's emitters act like he has a gravity hammer on each foot. He can jump further and faster than Samus can, but he can't double jump.**

**Personally, I'm better at writing close combat fight scenes, so that's why my ranged fights may be lacking.**

**The secondary firing mode is pretty much like a Hunter's fuel rod cannon. **

**I'm starting to get a **_**little **_**sick of people complaining about John's arm…**

**He's missing an arm, deal with it!**

**I reckon this is better.**

**If I'd wanted to give him his arm back I would have.**

**His DNA is damaged by Flood and Radiation exposure so any kind of cloning, cellular reconstruction, whatever, is out of the question.**

**Jerks…**

**(Rant not directed at anyone in particular. For confirmation please take 200 of your most expensive sleeping pills. Not responsible for death, serious injury, increase in stupidity or any other symptoms of taking the author's advice. Terms and conditions apply.)**


	15. That New Car Smell

**That New Car Smell**

**Sorry it's late. Exams…**

**Wahhh! Bad marks…**

**Disclaimer: If I owned either of these I wouldn't NEED to take exams to get a good job right? Right.**

**Fuck… I just couldn't seem to get started… I mean it's been sitting there half written for like forever but… ack…**

**Thought: **'Thought'

**Speech:** "Speech"

**Change in scene: ………..**

* * *

N'Tyko fidgeted under the intense glare which bored into the back of his skull.

"Explain."

Not looking over his shoulder, he raised his claws in what appeared to be a placating gesture. "Please. Just allow us to arrive at our destination then all will be revealed."

Samus took a few quick breaths, before glaring with renewed intensity. "Don't play victim with me. You're the one who disappeared for months at a time."

The three of them walked through the narrow passage N'Tyko had directed them to. He had said that this tunnel was actually unknown to the rest of the Chozo. When John had asked how he had managed to build a secret passage inside his quarters, whilst keeping it a secret, he had answered that anything was possible with the right technology.

John tilted his head to avoid another low hanging light-producing-thingy, glad he wasn't wearing his suit. Otherwise his head would be scraping the roof.

After nearly an hour of walking in silence, the twisting tunnel began to slope sharply upwards.

"We are nearly there." N'Tyko said without slowing pace. "When we finally arrive I will give you two an extended briefing and get you set to leave."

"Leave? We need to leave… so… soon?" Samus stopped.

N'Tyko had opened a hatch.

"What? What is it?" John looked past the paralysed woman.

"Ooooh. Nice."

Great walls of rock soared horizontally upwards, leaving a large round circle of tropical blue sky peeking though amongst the crags.

It was a volcano.

Amongst the trees that coated the walls of the extinct volcano lay spirally gantries, which, while being utilitarian, managed to contain some of the Chozo's technological grace. And amongst the gantries lay…

"Holy Fuck!"

It was huge, red, orange, green windowed, slopping hulled, beak headed, gun covered ship.

The craft had a curved frame, beginning with a beaked cockpit, which flowed down to the tips of the four wings which split out the rear. Gun turrets of various design that John didn't recognise coated strategic areas on it outer hull, and a stubby barrel protruded outside of the 'forehead' of the craft, giving the impression of a spinal mounted weapon of some variety.

"How does no one know about this?" Samus asked incredulously.

N'Tyko walked towards the ship. "I am almost as brilliant as my father was, and, since O'Hala is not looking for something like this, it makes it as easy to hide as a battery in a power plant."

He turned around, a fierce scowl on his features. "And now onto the real business. I want you two to leave, tonight."

Samus crossed her arms and gave the scientist a sturdy look. "Anything to add before I ask the obvious question."

"First, let us go inside." With that N'Tyko strode off towards the rear of the craft, the other two trailing behind.

"Obviously," N'Tyko noted, "Jumping into a hatch would be nigh impossible with a ship this large, and so my father installed a gravity lift."

Samus grabbed his shoulder, "O'Icun really built this?"

"Of course." He said, "He called it his greatest accomplishment." He turned towards Samus as the lift booted up. "He also called it his final gift to you."

Samus was speechless.

N'Tyko stepped into the light projected by the gravity emitter and began to rapidly rise into the air.

"C'mon." Said John, giving his female comrade a light push. She nodded silently and entered the ship.

……………

The size of the ship staggered Samus, who was only used to ships the size of fighters, gunboats. Even in her brief stint in the Galactic Federation Marine Corps had only required her to ride in a small frigate, where quick deployment would enable her to utilize her close combat talents.

_This _ship was nearly two hundred meters long, and had all the facilities she could dream of. At the rear of the ship lay the engine room, where an enormous generator and accompanying engine resided. N'Tyko had proudly announced them to be of his own design. One space further up the ship lay the ration storage component, the algae vats and cargo hold, supplying room for food, oxygen, and monetary materials in sequence. One more space up lay the grav-lift room, which also had an external airlock off to one side, incase external docking or departing was necessary.

The next room was in the exact centre of the ship and was quite vast.

"This is the armory?" John asked.

Indeed it was. The cavernous room was roughly oval shaper with numerous weapons stations covering the sides. Held in a cradle, over a dual set of pressurized doors in the centre of the room, sat Samus' gunship.

"I'm not going to even bother asking how you got that here."

N'Tyko gave an embarrassed cough.

"All the weapons stations are completely modularized." N'Tyko stated, "In case of different species using different models of armor."

At the top of the room the main access corridor continued. The Chozo gestured towards several doors which lined the hallway.

"These are the living quarters. There are five rooms, all modulated with pressured door, to create comfortable environments for any kind of crew."

The larger bulkhead at the far end of the path opened up, revealing what John believed to be an appallingly large bridge.

The centre of the room had a large table, surrounded by a few chairs, over which a map of the galaxy revolved. At the front of the room, where it tapered to a point, sat a large chair surrounded by what appeared to be navigation instruments.

"Ah! I see a seat with my name on it." Samus said with a nod.

John moved among the other stations which were occasionally spread along the outer walls. There were three other consoles apart from the first, and two of them were quite similar. But the last one had a much larger chair, as well as a featureless full helmet which had several cables emitting from it into the chair.

"What is the purpose of that chair?"

"I believe that I'll answer that." A new voice rang out amongst the three, one that was familiar to two of them.

Samus span around. And her eyes widened when she saw who was standing on the table.

"Behold!" A twenty four inch O'Icun boomed. "Your Lord and Master, surrogate father and genius extraordinaire has returned from the grave to haunt your collective asses!"

Completely speechless, Samus threw herself across the room until her face was nearly superimposed with the image of the deceased, wrinkly old Chozo.

She stared at him for a long time. "I miss you." A few tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

"Ack. Nooo!" A spark of electricity jumped from the emitter on the table and connected with her nose, causing the woman to jump back with a squeak. "I didn't raise you soldier in order for you to cry over something like a family reunion! At attention!"

And Samus snapped to attention.

"Is this some kind of indoctrination?" A very bothered Spartan asked an equally flabbergasted N'Tyko.

"I though being dead would level him out." The younger Chozo almost sounded close to tears.

"Now." O'Icun began, whirling to face John. "That chair is a CPN, or Central Processing Node." He buffed a claw of his voluminous black robes. "I designed it. Basically, it acts as the central strategic and combat actuators of a regular ship. But..." O'Icun greedily rubbed his hands together. "It breaks the numerous control stations of a regular ship into a single neural interface."

With a flourish, he disappeared, and reappeared at an emitter near the CPN. "So, you control the ship with thought."

Samus looked delighted at this prospect, whilst John looked puzzled, or as puzzled as a trained soldier could appear. "Wouldn't it simply be more efficient to take control of the ship yourself?"

An AI, even a possibly inebriated one, could still make and initiate decisions thousands of times faster than any human.

"AI's are forbidden, by Galactic Law, to take any direct action in any situation, ever since the Arcadi Incident." N'Tyko said with a scowl on his face. "And there are numerous electronic countermeasures in place to enforce the Federation's will."

"Arcadi?"

"Not important." Interrupted the senior Chozo. "You have to leave now. O'Hala is becoming increasingly agitated. The xenophobia he exhibited in his youth is coming to a head." O'Icun crossed his arms and studied his foot. "Our purpose as the Dark Chozo, as our cousins so _affectionately _named us, was to help usher in another Galactic golden age. Like the 3rd Re-seeds before us we would impart our advanced technology, all non-military of course, and definitely not to any of the other Re-seeds. He gave John, then Samus a hard look. "You lot seem to turn any new toy you get into a gun for killing each other."

"Instead, when that sinful wretch took over, he initiated an isolationist policy. He's deliberately subverting _MY _plans-" He cut himself off.

"Let's just go."

* * *

**I have no real excuse for why it's so late, apart from holidays, end of year laziness****, beginning year despair, writers block and a crashing internet.**

**Just keep in mind that my Fics will only be dead if I declare it so, which is unlikely.**

**Oh, and in case I didn't make it obvious, yes Samus swears like an Irish dockworker who is a part time sailor.**

**Remember that despite what the games tell you she is no Gordon Freeman.**

**And she's messed up. (In my Fic)**

**Finally: SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY**


	16. The Similarities Between Women and Bombs

**The Similarities Between Women and Bombs**

**Sorry about the further delay. My computer broke, and I lost the latest chapter of my Naruto fanfic, my Buso Renkin Fanfic (which hasn't been posted), and this one. **

**Just to change something. I realised that Samus' new ship is much too long. So, cut it in half, its 100 metres long now. Also, in case I didn't describe it properly, the ship looks like a more heavily built, red Normandy from Mass Effect. Just give it more noticeable weapons.**

**Disclaimer: Did I make 100 million dollars between this chapter and the last? Did I then go and buy both the rights to Halo and then Metroid? No? Then my disclaimer stands.**

**Speech: **"Speech"

**Thoughts: **'Thoughts'

**Change off scene: ……….**

* * *

"That's all of it." John took one last glance at the stock in the hold before closing the hatch. "I'll go do the preliminary checks now."

Glancing at a projector situated in the wall he sighed.

"Quit glaring."

"Oh, no, please. Go right ahead. Don't trust the guy who's been living in here for the past four years." O'Icun was sitting cross legged with a murderous expression on his face.

"I prefer to do my own checks on equipment and supplies." John gave the computer program a pointed look. "I've made mistakes by relying on others to do things that need doing."

"That's beside the point! I can do a better job and you know it!"

"Really…?"

"Yes. Example Number one! You neither noted, nor investigated item number three hundred and forty five on that list."

"What?"

A _very _disturbing grin appeared on O'Icun's face. "Look it up."

The Solenoid did so.

"Shit."

The door to the cargo hold flew open, and John rushed in. Eventually reaching his destination, somewhere towards the back, he grabbed a small package, which was sitting on top of very large, briefcase like box.

"This needs to be refrigerated."

"No, you idiot!" Squawked the irate Chozo. "The one underneath it!"

The former Spartan's gaze slowly slid from the object in his hand to the large cylindrical case sitting on the floor.

A code pad glowed on one side

_Please Insert Code:--_

Shrugging, John closed his eyes and tapped three random buttons.

1-1-7

The seal popped.

Inside was a small sheet of paper, which rested over a rather complex looking machine. With a frown, he inspected the hasty scrawl, which could be identified as K'Tarr's messy handwriting.

_Made you a tub of that hair prevention gunk as a going away gift. Give it to Samus, since I know she hates wasting time shaving her legs…_

John rubbed his chin, glad for the goo which had stopped his beard from growing for the last few centuries. He knew what Castro had meant. His eyes continued scanning the paper.

_Oh, and enjoy._

_-K'Tarr_

A quick glance at the machine told John everything he needed to know.

"I dearly hope no one else knows about this."

O'Icun appeared behind him. "Only N'Tyko, since he transported it here."

John snapped the case shut and covered it over with other boxes, hoping to keep it a secret as possible. Giving a deep, heaving sigh the Spartan left the room.

"How powerful is each warhead?" He asked, walking down the main access towards the centre bay.

A projector attached to one of the walls rolled along at the same pace, with an image of the ship's AI walking on top of it.

"Fifty." Said the deceased scientist.

"That's fifty megatons, multiplied by nine, then multiplied by the general neutron density coefficient…" John trailed off as he calculated the sum in his head. "That's forty five gigatons…"

He turned to O'Icun in frustration.

"He built me a forty eight gigaton NOVA mine as a going away present!"

"Deal with it..."

John glared. "You're real helpful, you know that?"

O'Icun simply shrugged, before disappearing.

…………

"I think all the final checks are done. I'll just start the warm up routine and we can be off." Samus tapped the ignition button.

At once, a healthy whir began to reverberate through the deck. After a few seconds however, it faded until it was just a light background noise.

"Well, I shall be off." N'Tyko closed down the micro computer he had been using. "Send me regular calls, I want to know everything. EVERYTHING."

"…Sure, whatever floats your boat…"

He chuckled, "Don't leave anything out."

Samus sat down in the pilots chair and swung to face the avian. "Alright. What are you planning?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Well… What are you _expecting_ then?"

"Nothing."

"How dumb do you think I am?"

With a shrug the Chozo ignored her. "Anyway, I have left my contact number in the database, right there." He pointed at a file highlighted on the large screen embedded in the roof.

It was a well designed projector that actually made the contents of the screen visible from all angles, so that no matter where you were on the bridge, potentially vital information was always on hand. Of course this meant that pointing at something on screen was a waste of time.

"The code to get us through the disruption field is programmed in." O'Icun said, as he appeared on the screen. "And that's everything." Crossing his arms as he snorted. "Once soon as my wayward son leaves."

With a hiss, a bridge door opened, and through it marched a very irritated looking Spartan.

"Here." He said shortly, as he tossed the small box at Samus. "It's a ship christening gift, or whatever."

Samus read the label, before frowning.

"Are you implying that I need to shave more often?" A rather dangerous glint had appeared in her eye. And John felt that his comfortable existence was teetering on a rather sharp edge.

"And when, might I ask, have I been in the position to see your bare legs and come to such a conclusion?"

The rather irritated woman crossed her arms and snorted. "Who knows what you do at night…"

A cough from a rather ruffled N'Tyko broke the conversation.

"Whilst this is a grand conversation, I believe I should point out, that for all intents and purposes, all three of us have dropped of the face of this moon. O'Icun would notice rather quickly, since I am sure he keeps rather secure tabs on all _undesirables _that come under his jurisdiction."

"Yes, yes. Now shoo!" O'Icun was obviously the AI version of stressed, since his image was beginning to break up, with lines of revolving code visible on certain fragments of his holographic image. "In all your flapping around, you all just have not realised how dangerous O'Hala really is!"

N'Tyko rubbed his head. "So hasty..."

"It's damn important! You must get back to your lab and prepare from there! I won't have you in an adverse situation because of you not having an alibi!"

………**.**

"All systems ready to go, gantries retracting." N'Tyko's voice spoke through the communicator directly into John's headset. The CPN's helmet was completely opaque and showed nothing of the outside world.

"Can I get some visual here?" Whilst used to wearing a helmet, the former supersoldier had qualms about being in the dark, both figuratively and literally.

"Sorry my friend, that helmet can only be activated once the initial conditions are met. If all internal network channels are not cleared of all white noise and cosmic interference, your brain could melt."

"Ah. Carry on then."

Thirty seconds later N'Tyko spoke again. "We are ready to input you into the system. Now, you will feel an odd sensation, not unlike being struck in the back of the head. Minus the pain of course."

"That doesn't sound particularly pleas-"

"…"

"That _was_… odd."

All of a sudden it was like John had grown hundreds of eyes all over the ship's interior. In addition, schematics and infrared images overlayed all of the camera images, with status reports hanging in corners of his vision in three dimensional angles.

Strangely, it all made perfect sense.

"It will seem strange." O'Icun's voice came out of the edge of his vision, most likely coming out of the speakers in his ears. "But a series of 'thought splitters,' as I call them, will actually enable you to focus your concentration on everything at once."

"That should be impossible!" Samus sounded off somewhere to his left, probably from her seat at the nose.

"Technology can do strange things."

"Well… I'm gonna use some technology that makes perfect sense to me."

And with that, the cruiser began to rise, several swivel mounted jets making its climb stable.

"All systems within parameters, environment stable, heat dispersal at one hundred percent… You are ready to go." N'Tyko's voice had a sad quality to it.

"Don't worry; I'll see you in a couple of years. That's a promise!"

He gave a full blown laugh over the com. "I'll look forward to it. N'Tyko signing off."

And with a click the avian's voice disappeared.

"He'll be in charge once we come back, I'm sure." O'Icun's voice procured the image of someone rubbing their hands together with glee. "He's a skilled politician, and is already eroding O'Hala's power base. Ah. Genes are a powerful thing."

By now the ship was clear of the rim of the volcano, and most likely visible to all sorts of detection equipment.

"John, give me eighty percent engine power. Let's see what she can do!" Samus gave the order, and after a short "Think the instructions," from O'Icun, the pull of gravity began to strengthen as the ship shot into the atmosphere.

………**.**

"O'Hala, O'Hala!"

The door to O'Hala's office flew open as one of his assistants burst in, squawking in a rather alarmed fashion.

"Yes?" Irritation was evident on the senior Chozo's voice as he gazed at the ruined miniature sitting on his desk.

"An unknown ship has been detected leaving the surface. It is not one of ours, or S'Amus.'" The nameless subordinate was wringing his clawed hands.

With a great, heaving sigh, O'Hala brought up a program on his monitor.

"Give me the locations of Samus, N'Tyko and Guest."

The reply was instantaneous.

"TWO SUBJECTS NOT WITHIN SCANABLE PARAMETERS-TARGET N'TYKO IS SITUATED WITHIN AREA 6C"

The assistant flinched as O'Hala's booming laughter filled the large office.

When his mirth had faded the Dark Chozo Leader turned to his cowering fellow.

"Quite obviously, S'Amus and her pet are attempting to leave our local space in order to reveal our existence to the outside world. Since this must be avoided therefore _appropriate _action must be undertaken."

He strode from the room with a spring in his step.

"Shoot them down."

………**.**

A blinking on John's tactical display warned him of energy spikes all around the planet they were leaving.

"Looks like O'Hala is as dangerous as you suggested." He said. "I'm getting activation readings from a ring of what most likely are weapons satellites. I hate rings…"

"That's a bit extreme isn't it?" Samus sounded incredulous. "I mean, is he seriously going to try to kill us?"

O'Icun sighed. "As I'm sure you're plenty aware, O'Hala isn't the most stable of individuals and is quite willing to use force to gain and secure positions of authority." He gave a thoughtful pause. "My poor misguided friend was always unusually aggressive for a Chozo."

The 13th Re-Seed gave a jolt of alarm. "All the satellites in this hemisphere have opened fire. It's a rather unusual fire pattern… Sort of looks like a-"

"Shotgun?" The 8th Re-Seed said.

"Space-combat flak then." The input came from the resident AI. "Most popular form of base defence."

"How does it work?" A space shotgun was an interesting concept, but John thought that it did seem like a rather unorthodox method of warfare.

"Well." O'Icun responded. "Stellar drives these days are incredibly fast, making direct fire weapons over large distances useless, since this is where most space combat occurs. Only missiles have the tracking capability needed for combat these days, and thus are incredibly expensive. So basically, the solution was to fill every possible section of manoeuvrable space with super dense shrapnel."

"Wouldn't the collateral damage from such weapons be massive?"

"Surprisingly, no. Most stationary structures, like space stations would have heat amps to remove such projectiles and a planets atmosphere would have the same effect. And if the heat is intense enough, then the shrapnel should simply dissolve into a gas and cause no harm."

Samus then interrupted with a rather valid point. "You two didn't forget that while you're having an impromptu science lesson, we ARE in fact being shot at?"

"Oh. Right" and "Sorry" Came from the mouths of the two other members of the crew.

With a sniff, Samus spun the ship so that it faced the oncoming wall of metal.

"John." She asked. "Can you arm the primary cannon with a 5k bore shell, please?"

He did so.

John could _hear _her grin.

"Fire."

He did so.

The space silenced detonation spun the ship on its vertical axis as the cruiser let loose with its own flak shot, except this one seemed to be all energy. _This _particular wave of energy seemed to suck in all the metal objects that had been heading towards them with murderous intent, before spectacularly exploding.

"Oh. So it _did _work."

The attitudes of the ship's two human occupants towards the AI were rather negative for a while.

"That was a magnetically charged energy field, wasn't it? Rather ingenuous."

"Naturally, Samus dear."

………**.**

O'Hala sat in his darkened office, peering over his steepled claws at the nonchalant form of N'Tyko.

"So…" The senior Chozo inflicted his junior with a piercing glare. "You had absolutely nothing to do with it?"

"Of course not."

"Even though you are her surrogate brother, best friend and confident?"

"That is correct."

There was a heavy silence.

"You do not think much of me, do you?"

"No, O'Hala, I do not."

Another heavy pause permeated the room.

O'Hala's matte black chair of office spun until its back was facing N'Tyko.

"They may have eluded me this time, and their base of operations may have conveniently been vaporised by a superheated explosion, and they may have escaped beyond the range of the Disruption Field. But…"

The room seemed to darken further.

"You, my friend, are still here."

N'Tyko started to rise.

"Now, Now, do not be hasty." O'Hala's voice was dripping with malice. "I mean you no harm. I just think you would be more effective if you worked directly under me."

His chair returned to his original position.

"Welcome to the team, K'Tyko. After all, I must keep my friends close," His eyes now seemed to burn in their sockets. "And my enemies closer."

………

Out side the Field, the cruiser rocketed along at an incredible rate.

"I would never have thought O'Hala capable of such dangerous actions." Samus did not look happy in the least.

John had finally got the hang of the numerous camera interfaces, and could now see the interior of the ship in a third person view format. It was rather odd to see his himself sitting in a large chair with a black mask over his face.

'Rather disorientating.'

"Oh he is more than capable." O'Icun gave a humourless chuckle. "After all that is how he got his office."

"What." The flatness of Samus' response was rather unnerving to the Spartan. It seemed to be the voice of the Samus known as the best bounty hunter in galactic space. Or so he expected.

"Quite simply… He poisoned me."

Samus seemed to freeze.

"So you weren't tired… and sad… because of my departure… You had been poisoned instead."

Samus remembered the discussion she had had with N'Tyko about her father's death while John had been recovering. About how he had grown weaker and weaker, before passing away entirely.

"Why didn't you do anything?" She asked in a clipped voice.

"Because he's good at his job. And he is the only one that can hold the Dark Chozo together until N'Tyko can take over. Whilst we are a complex culture, we love strong leaders, and N'Tyko isn't quite ready for the poison of Grand Master yet."

Samus didn't say anything. Except for:

"I'm going to kill him."

She attempted to swing the ship around, but John cut the power to the engines, sending them adrift.

"I won't pretend to know the situation more than you, but I'll follow O'Icun's suggestions in this matter! You're too emotional at the moment!" John was hoping that she would see reason.

In an instant Samus was upon him, her modified Gibreel out of its holster and pointing at his helmeted head at extreme close range.

"Return power to the engines!" She bellowed at him.

He didn't respond.

The fierce look in Samus' eyes didn't change for a long time. But slowly it began to waver, before finally it broke and she strode from the bridge.

'That was close.' John exhaled out of relief. 'That was not a favourable situation.'

"You must mean a lot to her."

John disengaged the helmet from his head before looking at the hologram of O'Icun with a frown.

"What do you mean?"

O'Icun once again gave a mirthless chuckle. "I don't know what kind of Samus you've been dealing with these past six months, but she is easily as violent as O'Hala, with a lot more practice behind her."

The late Grand Master of the Dark Chozo gave a surprisingly sinister grin. "If it had been anyone else who had denied her orders like that, she would have shot them instantly."

"If you think you know what life is like in the future, you aint seen nothin' yet."

* * *

**Eleven pages long! SA-WISH!!**

**Poor John, everyone in the future is a psycho.**

**Personally, I really liked this chapter, which is why I spent a lot of time fine tuning it. There will be some typos, but they will be fixed once I go back over all my chapters and correct them. (That'll happen in time…)**

**Just in case it wasn't obvious (which it wasn't), both John and Samus will be in their Zero Suits unless they are in a situation were it would be sill to not be. (E.G. Combat situations, off the ship)**

**Also, Could someone please tell me how to reply to reviews! I'd really appreciate it; cause then I can tell you how much I appreciate it!**

**Finally: What's a good name for the new ship? It can be either related to Halo, Metroid or this Fic, or all three if you think you can do that…**


	17. Alcoholic Confrontations

HQ Headed

**Alcoholic Confrontations**

**Biggest case of writers block ever…**

**Anyway, on with the story!**

**Disclaimer: This farce does not constitute a copy-write breach!**

**Speech: **"Speech"

**Thoughts: **'Thoughts'

**Change off scene: ……….**

* * *

John spooned down another glob of reconstituted ration, placed his feet onto the main table, leant back, and watched the news. It was unsurprising how similar the news of the 31st millennium was compared to the news back in his time.

'I feel old.' He pulled a lock of silver hair in front of his eyes and studied the strand for a while, before dismissing it with a grunt and returning to his meal and viewing material.

"War this, medical breakthrough that, refugee crisis this, atrocity that…" He began talking to Samus only to remember that she wasn't in the area.

"O'Icun? Is Samus still in her room?" He queried the AI, while gulping down the remainder of the gelatinous goop.

What popped up on screen was immensely surprising and rather distracting.

"Ah, I guess she is. But I don't think she'll appreciate you filming her when she's in the shower. Besides..." He quickly heated up another pack before tearing it open and devouring the contents within seconds. "Isn't it kind of weird for a father figure to do that kind of thing?"

"It's only a joke! Don't make such hurtful accusations." The shower scene was replaced with the slumped figure of the old bird. He then straightened and began to rub his claws together rather menacingly. "But you can't say you didn't like it, can you?"

"Yeah, I can." He stood abruptly. "Anyway, I'm heading into the port. I need something alcoholic." Although personally he had no idea why he might need alcohol, or even what it tasted like, it just seemed like a good excuse to avoid potential annoyances.

He strode from the room, ignoring the shout of "What are you, gay?" and marched down the main hall. Arriving at the door to his quarters he glanced at the door to Samus' own out of the corner of his eye. He could hear the faint rush of running water.

His mind's eye began to generate some rather _intriguing _images at that piece of external stimulus.

Ruthlessly crushing that particular thought tangent he entered his room. The furnishing consisted of a rather large bed, a small food dispenser, slightly larger medbay, and numerous monitors all displaying views of the airlock and sections of exterior hull. There was also a small weapons locker, containing several gibreels and a larger, two-handed anti-armor version which resembled a shotgun minus the pump. Another door lead to the small bathroom. Walking to the wardrobe hidden inside a wall, the ex-Spartan donned his black zero-suit. He flexed the fingers on his organic left hand and allowed himself a grin at the sound of creaking leather alloy. John didn't like that the black covering didn't cover his artificial right forearm, but the suit was mainly a comfort thing, and he had minimal feeling in his faux limb anyway.

'And now to put several inches of titanium between me and everything else.'

It was a pleasant thought.

**………..**

Samus swept out of the shower, followed by a large cloud of steam. The shower system was an absolute luxury. With nearly ninety nine percent water efficiency, a complete water recycler and instant dry heat fan, showers were quick, easy and oh so relaxing.

"O'Icun, anything unusual to report?" Staying on top of any situation was an important part of an independent bounty hunter's life, even the situation immediately following a shower.

"Well…" The voice seemed to be coming out of a wall camera, one pointed directly at the shower cavity.

Samus' look was so flat you could build a car park on it. "Why is that pointed that way?"

There was a pregnant pause, which was then followed by the sound of a distraught Chozo. "Why does everyone think the worst of me?" Crying, which had a rather forced tone to it, followed.

"All right, all right, enough." Samus walked to her cupboard and, as John had done previously, donned her zero-suit "Where's our hard headed friend?"

"He's gone to get a drink, on station."

"Really?" Samus asked with mild surprise. "Didn't think of him as the drinking type."

"Neither did I, or he I'm sure…" A pause. "Alcohol loosens tongues, right?" The conniving edge had crept back into O'Icun's voice.

"I guess?"

**……….**

John stomped down the main foyer of the dock. Being a trained soldier, 'stomping' was the last thing he wanted to do. Unfortunately, his armor seemed to be made for stomping, or at least made for making a lot of noise when walking down the armored deck of a Freeport. According to the scraps of information he'd picked up, Freeports were trade hubs, the main centers of intergalactic commerce. Smaller than mining stations, bigger than way-stations, the stations were a vital conduit in the galactic economy.

At least that's what the brochure said.

The Freeport had no name; it was just referred to as Freeport-7, and was definitely one of the larger space-worthy structures on which the Spartan had ever set foot, disregarding the Halos and the Ark of course. The station was of a rather economical design, being a large hollow cylinder, with docking bays and hangers on the innermost edges with. Naturally, the centrifugal force created by the rotating station allowed residential and commercial complexes to be built on the inside of the cylinder.

John was reminded of his original goal when two of the station's inhabitants stumbled past him, singing in loud, abrasive voices. Gazing in the direction the pair had come from John noted the word _BAR_, written in eight different languages over many different establishments.

Obviously it was Freeport-7's alcoholism sector.

The area, like the rest of the station, was blindingly lit, although perhaps in this case it was so to keep those with hangovers away.

The Spartan picked a dive at random and wandered in. He picked a dive for a reason, and that was to blend in. He doubted that heavy armor was common dress to some of the more reputable bars. That old saying came into play however.

No plan survives contact with the enemy.

**………..**

Samus palmed the visor of her helmet as a heaving sigh escaped her lips. A query to the station's AI Quartermaster for the location of 'Large Humanoid' had come up with over five hundred results.

"Display species. Sort into registered and NA. Disregard registered."

The first list was removed, and a second, shorter list appeared on the projector.

"Search: Estimated Combat Threat, 2nd Class Plus. Section: Military Hardware."

The list was replaced with a map of the station. Two dots blinked. Both were in the same area. The same floor in fact.

Samus began to march.

**……….**

John quickly found out that blending in was harder than it looked when in a civilian environment. Espionage was easy, get in, get out, and don't get seen. Undercover operations were best left to the professionals. Most likely professionals who didn't stand over seven feet tall and whose job descriptions didn't include destroying alien superstructures. The Chief had always trusted his judgment. On a battlefield, gut instinct stopped those guts from being put on display outside of their housing. His gut instinct told him to find an area in which heavy weaponry was unnoticeable. What it _didn't _tell him was that entering a bar full of equally heavily armed, unsavory, _drunk_ characters was worse.

Strangely enough, it looked exactly like the only other bar he'd been in, despite the removal of millions of kilometers and hundreds of years. And this one wasn't being used as cover from a hail of plasma rounds…

Yet…

John had put himself down on a bar stool at one far edge, minimizing the area he had to cover to watch his back.

'Safety first.'

He could feel the glares of a majority of the patrons boring into his back. John guessed it was because his armor was polished, brand-new and undamaged. Every single other occupant looked like they'd been through hell and back. Pitted, blackened, scraped and in some places held together by some sort of binding, the armor the other patrons wore was much like the condition his old armor was in. With a click his helmet slid back, as did the head projector around his chin. Both folded up until they were out of the way, the visor of the helmet sat atop his head, while the high collar just sunk into the front of his armor. Baring his face in the presence of so many potential hostiles was not comfortable, but none of the other patrons had their helmets on which meant they weren't looking for a serious fight, since the energy tanks could only deploy over a sealed, uniform environment.

The bartender, a thin man who seemed rather out of place in the coarse setting, approached the wary soldier and grunted something in an unrecognizable language.

John quickly flicked out eight fingers, a code Samus had taught him.

"An Eight, huh?" Whilst the man was thin, his incredibly deep baritone made up for his lack of girth.

John gave a curt nod.

"You got a lot of balls hanging around here." He put down a beverage in front of the Spartan, the same one that everyone else was drinking. "And I mean that. I'm not saying that for kicks."

John kept his face impassive as he broke the cap off the cylindrical container, and didn't bother offering a response. He took a sip.

The unnamed, unmarked beverage was extremely bitter, but not unpleasantly so. In fact, John found it to be one of the more superior things he had ever tasted. Although Samus had pointed out that his sense of taste was 'out of wack,' due to the fact that he thought the long-life rations she had bought in bulk were addictively good.

**……….**

_Tap Tap Tap_

Samus' armored toe bounced loudly of the deck of the circular elevator.

'Elevators…' She decided. 'Are a most annoying source of transportation.'

**………**

_Tap Tap Tap_

"Oi!"

John ignored the presence over his right shoulder. There had been numerous calls, jeers and curses coming from the other clientele, and whilst most of them were in different languages, the tone was unmistakable. However, this was the first time one of them had approached him.

"It seems to me, that you. Just. Don't Get it." The slight slur in his voice hinted at the growing inebriation which was beginning to take hold of the establishment. It had yet to affect the white haired man however. He put down his fifth drink.

"What don't I get?" They weren't going to let him go, he realized. They had been spoiling for a fight since he had arrived. Why, he didn't know.

"We. Don't. Like. You."

"I gathered."

The background muttering increased in intensity and volume.

"Seems like you've got an attitude problem, huh? Maybe I should…"

"Back off, Baric!" A new voice overrode the first.

"But… sir he-"

"Enough!"

"…Yes, sir."

John went back to his drink. It was nice to see some discipline amongst future society, Samus seemed to be a little on the wild side, and he'd feared that it was the norm.

"I'll deal with him…"

John crushed the can inside his fist. Tapping his helmet closed he whirled to face who appeared to be the commander of the rabble. The whine of the power cells charging his Gibreel was inaudible over the sounds of other weapons arming.

"Whoa, slow down buddy." The leader of the group raised both hands, not in the least intimidated by a much larger man aiming a gun at his head. Although, the fact that he had at least fifteen men watching his back may have been a factor.

The commander wore a suit of armor which seemed to reflect a medieval theme, or whatever version of that period his civilization had. What offset this was that his right arm seemed to consist of a large, multi-barreled rocket launcher. The men that lined the walls were all armed with Gibreels of varying sorts.

The leader continued. "You have the dubious honor to be addressing Mercenary Union Second-Class Commandant Yasou Selen." He paused. "And company. Now, I do believe that you are in our bar." His voice was oddly melodious.

"I don't owe you my name, and no rank as of yet." Semi-completing the usual exchange of names, the Spartan continued. "Your bar?" John allowed the considerable tension he was feeling to creep into his voice as derision.

"Well, not really. But, I _am _asking you to leave. So please..." Yasou gestured towards the door. "Get out. After all. No rank, no skill." John could almost _sense_ the smirk through Selen's helmet.

"And If I refuse?"

Selen barked a laugh. "Then I'll have to grant the proprietor a fair bit of money to pay for the cleaning this place will need to get rid of all the blood."

About to resign himself to the task of finding a new bar to drink at, John was stopped by a peculiar feeling.

It was familiar, yet different. It felt like the adrenaline rush that followed a life and death struggle of combat, but wasn't.

'Anticipation?'

**……….**

Samus pushed her way through the crowd to the front, the wall of people easily parting before her armored form. The entrance to the entertainment sector had been blocked off by a large sheet of energy shielding, which was patrolled by several blue suited guards who all wore the black spiral of Freeport Security. She approached a guard with the gold trim that signified his superior rank. He had his back turned to her as he consulted a data pad.

The Officer didn't even turn around. "There is a firefight occurring within this sector. No I can't let you in. If you have places to be, too bad. I don't care if your husband, wife, pet, _whatever_… is inside, rules are rule-" His tirade ended abruptly as Samus tapped the pad he was holding, bringing up her Hunter License. "-s are bendable."

The blue curtain parted with a hiss. Samus marched through and scanned the area.

"There you are."

**……….**

One of the mercenaries howled as his leg exploded in a shower of bone, blood and displaced tissue.

John just put another round through his head.

The man formerly known as Spartan 117 walked down the main avenue at a leisurely pace, picking off his assailants as they rose from cover. It was disturbingly easy. Once he had blown away the front of the bar with the secondary firing mode of his _Enforcer, _the remaining mercenaries had scattered. The mobile firefight which had proceeded had revealed certain things to him. One was the difference in armor quality, or at least specification. His armor appeared to be built like Samus'-

That is, like a man shaped tank.

-while the mercs' armor seemed to be rather more flimsy. Firepower which wouldn't even make Samus blink put them down _permanently_.

The visual sensor showed nothing, so either they were all dead, or well out of sight. However, he hadn't seen Yasou yet, so the fight was far from over. This fact was reinforced by the roar of rocket fire.

Engaging the emitters on his feet enabled him to leap clear of the incoming missiles. Twisting in the air, he turned 180 degrees to face the head merc. The other man had some sort of propulsion system built into his armor, which enabled him to hover twenty meters in the air. Spine like stabilizers protruded from his back, while thrusters were attached to his feet and lower back.

Retrieving the second Gibreel from the horizontal holster attached to the small of his back, John tried to shoot his opponent down. However, it was proving far from easy, since Yasou seemed well accomplished in his handling of both the launcher and the jet pack. Selen seemed to flow between the shots like fly dodging a swatter, able to change direction rapidly in the air without throwing off his aim. John however, once committed to a jump, couldn't change direction.

**……….**

Samus whistled at the scene that greeted her. One building had been gutted, and a few charred corpses were testimony to the effectiveness of what ever ordinance had been fired.

'How creatively vicious.'

**………**

The Chief grunted as he collided with the deck. Sliding a few meters, he managed to roll to his feet and smack away another rocket. Things weren't going well. Whilst he had the advantage of firepower and endurance, Yasou was very, very fast.

But he had an ace in the hole.

As the rocket armed merc chased John down the Entertainment Sector, he had failed to notice the rapidly descending roof of the street they were fighting in. What had once been one floor had now become a three layered ramp of varying heights. For now, John had been fighting on the lowest, widest floor, but…

**……….**

Yasou Selen was enjoying himself immensely. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed a fight like this. Being a mercenary, he had spent his entire adult life making war against rebels, private armies, other Union forces, whoever he was hired to fight. But it had been rare to fight anyone who had skills beyond the common soldier. Bounty hunters had all the fun, hunting hardened criminals with unique war-gear, or serial killers with god-like tactical skills. Unfortunately, he couldn't join the Bounty Hunter's Guild, something about the price on his head being worth too much. The only reason he wasn't being hunted now was that the Guild and Union had a strict non-interference policy.

He brought his mind back to the present when the other man changed tactics. It took only a second, but his adversary leapt at one of the walls with one of those booming jumps, and a quick second jump put him at the same height.

'What's he-'

The question was rendered irrelevant as his antagonist hurtled off the nearest surface straight at him.

**……….**

John grunted as his left handed grab missed, Selen's agility once again proving to be too much.

**……….**

"Oh! So close." Selen prepared to fire a full barrage at point blank range. "But this is the end for-"

His eyes widened behind his visor as the right hand of the falling man seemed to stretch itself an extra one and a half meters and wrap around his ankle.

**……….**

"Close enough."

John hurled Yasou as hard as he could straight down towards the floor, where he impacted with a sickening crack. He tried to get up, and had managed turn himself over before over one thousand pounds of heavily armored superhuman impacted with his chest.

As he tried to pry his red splattered feet free from the mutilated carcass, John heard a quiet clapping coming from behind him.

"Some help would have been nice."

Samus snorted. "You looked like you had it under control."

Finally liberating his feet from the remains of Yasou Selen, John turned to Samus. "If I'd given him a few more minutes…"

"You wouldn't have had to worry about it." Samus put down the large crate she had been holding in her left hand. "He probably only had about six or seven rounds left. Ten tops. Then you wouldn't have had a problem. Ammo for a weapon like that is hard to carry in large quantities."

"Well." Turning around, John observed the carnage that had been created due to his little skirmish. "What about all that? I'm sure the repairs won't be cheap." The damage actually spread so far that the curve of the station hid the worst of it from view.

"They'll take the cost from the casualties' accounts. Space doesn't show mercy to losers." She picked up her burden again. "Come on; let's get back to the ship. O'Icun's probably watching this on Vid, and I'm sure he's either worried, or laughing his ass off."

John nodded. Matching his rather squelchy pace with Samus' he asked. "What's in the box?"

"This?" Samus hefted the load. "One hundred and twenty cans of Reeb!"

"You mean beer right?"

"What?"

"…Nothing."

* * *

**I'm so sorry for the delay. It was so hard to write this chapter. Half the time I didn't feel like writing, and when I did, I had writers block…**

**And exams…**

**Sigh…**

**The Chief's gun is called an Enforcer, because the primary fire mode is not unlike the spikes that come off the giant sentinels, hence the name.**

**Over the next week or so, I'll be going back and making a few corrections, making the Chief less OOC, the works.**

**I seem to be using too many words in pointless descriptions, and my perspective seems to fluctuate a bit… Any advice?**


	18. It's Chemical!

**It's Chemical!**

**Disclaimer: Nintendo doesn't delay like me. I'm more like Valve. Or Blizzard. But I don't own anything of theirs either. **

**Keep in mind that the ship's still unnamed. If you can give me a name and reason, I'll pick the best one.**

**Speech: **"Speech"

**Thoughts: **'Thoughts'

**Change off scene: ……….**

**Edit: FanFiction got buggy... Fixed now.**

* * *

"Thash's it! Enhancsh blood beash out enhancsh liver!" Samus let off a rather evil cackle as John groggily rested his head on the surface of the mess table.

Samus exhaled noisily as she fanned her flushed face, looking with what could have been described as pride at the half empty Reeb case. "Thirty shtanda'd drinksh in one sitting! Shystem record, right there!" A rather unladylike hiccup escaped her mouth, as did another giggle.

John didn't reply, only giving a nearly inaudible groan as his response.

"Thirty Reebsh eash! An' I'm still standin'! I win!"

John raised his head off his arms.

"Stop that."

Saying gently to her feet, Samus gave her male companion a puzzled look.

"Wha'd ya mean?"

John gave a frustrated sigh.

"You're not drunk." A definitive edge crept into his voice. "I'm not drunk. We can't get drunk. Not on this much at least." He gestured at the mound of empty cans.

Samus returned his soft ire with a blank look, which was followed by a sigh of her own. "I didn't think your liver was so good."

"Neither did I." He cracked open another Reeb.

Samus snorted.

"Not much of a 'party-man,' are you?

"I wouldn't call this a party…and no." John replaced his head on his arms, leaving his Reeb unfinished.

With a shrug, the other soldier sat down and turned on the main monitor. Over a short jingle blared the voice of an announcer, speaking in the 8th Re-seed dialect.

_At twenty-one hundred hours_ Far _Eastern Spiral time today, a massive firefight broke out onboard Freeport Number Seven. Per Freeport protocol, all visual and audio data collected during the incident has been expunged in order to protect the identities of any corporations that may or may not have been involved in the incident. However, numerous eyewitness accounts have been collected by several different agencies, including the GFMC, in order for basic facts to be established. There have been reports of Red Hunter sightings, and we have a recorded interview with one of the security officials on the station to confirm this fact…_

Samus turned down the sound. "Looks like you're famous now, to a degree. And a fair bit richer I'd imagine. You could cash in the bounty on Selen's head for a decent bit."

On screen, a streamed image of a wrecked plaza showed the extent of the damage, and two meters off to the side of the picture measured both the damages and the sum of the reparations payments.

"Ouch!" Samus chuckled as she reached for her own Reeb. "It's a good thing you won. If someone managed to trace you back to me, I'd have a very light wallet for quite a while." Her chuckle diminished as a frown found its way across her features. "What did they do to make you go all…? Ah what's the word… bat shit crazy?"

John didn't respond.

"Something serious, right? Did they try to rob you or something? Oi! You listening?" Samus took her eyes off the screen to look in his direction, only to see him take to studying his empty can.

Samus' eyes narrowed. 'Is he looking… sheepish?'

A nearly inaudible mumble came from his direction.

"What?" Her voice took a very disgruntled edge.

"…They interrupted my drink."

A pause.

"What else?"

Another pause.

"That's it?" Her face was absolutely livid. "You started a mini war, killed over twenty people, because some asses wouldn't let you drink in peace? How the hell did you survive as a soldier if you react so violently over something so simple?!"

John's own face morphed into a mask of irritation, not unlike the one adorning Samus'.

"Someone like you can't criticize me."

"Regardless!" She said sharply. "You're the one who blew up, not me. You're the one who caused several fortunes worth of damage to a station after minimal deliberation. And you're the one who needs to finish off these Reebs!"

John's temper, which had been building since the beginning of Samus' tirade fizzled out into bewilderment at his companion's disarming statement. She was now holding his forgotten can in front of his face, giving it a swish that advertised its full nature.

"We're both wound up. You especially."

Samus just enjoyed the look of dislocation that was sprawled across his features.

"You're sick." She said.

'I have to take this carefully.' Samus decided, as a frown returned to John's face, 'He's more fragile than he knows.'

Seeing an objection beginning to form, the bounty hunter-cum-doctor attempted to placate her 'patient'. "Medically I mean. And I know what I'm doing. I've got a degree."

Once again, her decidedly abnormal testimonial was offset by the serious yet somehow mocking face she presented.

John felt his remaining disruptive impulses subside. He slowly took the offered Reeb from her hand and gestured hesitantly for the blond haired woman to continue.

"Firstly," Samus said, a dignified air giving the impression that she was balancing a pair of reading glasses on the end of her nose, "When was the last time you passed waste?"

"…What?"

Giving him a tight grimace, Samus said. "I'd rather not repeat myself."

"That would be back at the Dark Chozo home-moon."

When it became clear that he wasn't going to elaborate further Samus' face began to change to one of incredulity.

"You are aware that that was nearly five months ago, right?"

There was a pause as John began to look slightly worried.

"Ah…" He began. "Any ideas?"

It was all Samus could do to not laugh at the state his usually schooled face was in.

'Looking a bit ill now are we?' She thought.

Continuing with a tap of the table in the centre of the bridge, the female hunter said. "This is a cross-section of your body. Here and here are the places in which the Flood-Web has collected." She pointed at two highlighted spots on the rotating image that had been projected onto the surface of the table. "These are the Containment Sphere itself and your digestive system."

"The analysis you underwent during your recovery put this down as the defensive measures created by the Web, due to the fragile nature of the tract organs. However, in hindsight it seems that they have a different nature altogether." The image of John's digestive tract blew up, and it was now possible to see each strand of the ultra-tough fibers that coated the organs. In some places, mostly around the kidneys and pancreas, the Flood-Web had become twisted and knotted.

"Here the Web has actually fused with your organs." Samus gave a shrug. "How? I don't know. Neither does O'Icun. What I do know, however, is that it's doubled the size of your adrenal glands. And they're constantly running."

"How so?"

"To create adrenaline, there must be enough tyrosine in the adrenal glands." Another tap of the screen and a simple molecular structure diagram appeared. "You get this from food. So, in order to keep up with demand, your body has started mass-producing tyrosine to burn."

By the end of the complicated description, the Master Chief had collected, and had returned to his usual stoic attitude. "And the end result?" He queried. 'Though I can guess…' He added to himself.

"As you've probably guessed, you're on a constant adrenaline rush. Even on a depressant like alcohol you're probably still as high as a Skein Catcher!

Not knowing what that was, John kept silent.

She continued "In fact, ethanol wouldn't be that hard to chemically turn to tyrosine, so the more you drink, the crazier you get."

"Actually, we're as high as each other." Samus stood. "My central nervous system and brain sectors have been repeatedly drenched with Phazon radiation." She tapped the side of her head. "The result of that is having over one hundred quadrillion synapses. That's a thousand times greater than a normal human. And it's 'red-shifted," She made quotations in the air, "Chunks my reactions and logic into the emotional sector of my brain."

"It also gives me ESP, telekinesis, mind-reading powers, and the ability to BS like no other."

She exhaled, apparently exhausted. "Any questions?"

The reclining man frowned. "Do you really have a degree?"

"I've got doctorates in a range of chemical and biological sciences…"

The frown gained a hint of sarcasm. "Really…?"

"What? You think I got all that off an Info-Search or something?"

"I wouldn't know… Do I call you Doctor now?"

The response was a fist to the face.

Rolling with the blow, John came to his feet apparently unharmed.

'I shouldn't tell her,' John thought. 'She punches harder than me.'

"Was that really necessary?" He said, rubbing his chin.

Samus absently rubbed her knuckles. "I wouldn't know." She answered.

"Are you going to do it again?"

"I wouldn't know."

"I can see those doctorate certificates at work right now."

She just groaned. "Not a party man, but a comedian instead."

"You should try it. You're a joke." Despite John's deadpan tone, a sliver of amusement could be detected.

The blonde haired woman palmed her face. "No. Stop."

"…"

"…"

"A-"

"Shut up!" Samus pinched the bridge of her nose between forefinger and thumb. "I think… we need to drink more."

"Why do you need to drink again?"

In response, Samus downed a Reeb. "You don't need a reason to drink." She said with a sigh.

John nodded. "Perhaps..." He raised his newly opened can. "To education."

"Have you got these written down or something?"

John facial expression shifted into the 'wry' spectrum. "Anybody who writes jokes like these must be a no-talent hack."

………**.**

Much later, Samus looked over the small fort of cans she had built on her side of the table. Opposite her, John had done the same.

Between the two forts was a single unopened can.

Her hand twitched.

Reeb number two hundred taunted her.

The Reeb hunter's eyes narrowed and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

"I am not going to fight with you over the last of the alcohol." The bored supersoldier opposite her said.

Her eyes flicked from the Reeb to him, and then back. "Well…" She began. "That makes it easy doesn't it?"

Down it went.

"Ahh." She gave a contented sigh before cracking her knuckles. "Ok! Twenty questions time!" She thrust one finger into the air. "First question. What were you doing on that station? Or comparably; In that ice?"

John leant back in his chair and directed his gaze at the ceiling. "Lets see..." He paused as he trawled through his ancient thoughts. "It was R&R, I think. I'd been drifting in space for six months after the Ark Event. I got picked up eventually, returned to Earth, and absolutely crushed by my own fame."

"Crushed by your own fame?" Samus gave him a pointed look. "I know how that feels. I've got 'Red Hunter' merchandise, 'Red Hunter' fan organizations, there's probably a 'Red Hunter' racing team for all I know. And that's despite the fact that I didn't authorize any of it." The 'Red Hunter' shrugged. "I'm just glad that my real name is only known by certain high-up members of the GMFC, and my gender is known by even less than that."

"Being a symbol has its own issues I guess."

"… Money's good though."

"_I _never got paid."

Samus gestured for him to continue whilst attempting to keep a straight face.

"…I was quietly sent to an out-system medical facility in an attempt to give me some real recuperation. Unfortunately, the move was discovered by certain officials within the UNSC, one of whom was captured by a Brute raid."

He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "Needless to say, when they found out where I was, retribution was swift."

"What happened?"

"Not sure." He said with a frown. "Someone smuggled a homing beacon on board, and sent the coordinates to the Jiralhanae Fleet. At least that's what the operating commander said. I was sent to disarm it."

"And?"

**FLASHBACK: 1XXX YEARS**

"God dammit, Son! Haul ass! I need that beacon down, ASAP!" The grizzled voice of the Master Chief's commanding officer growled over the com.

"With all due respect Sir, he shouldn't be walking around, let alone going into combat." Alternatively, Cortana's smooth, synthesized voice was like a glass of glacial water.

"Don't you think I know that!? I was assigned this mission to keep you safe, secure and _healthy! _And if I can't do that then I can kiss my retirement pay goodbye! But I don't think the wee beasties out here are gonna let you have your beauty sleep any more than I!" A dull boom echoed over the com. "Firing solutions plotted, Sir! MAC guns are a go!" An ensign's voice could be overheard talking to the commander.

"Sir?" John asked. "How many ships are out there?"

There was no response from the commander apart from unintelligible bellows. He was obviously taking to his staff.

Cortana filled him in. "Four frigates, varying classifications. Same number of cruisers. Two destroyers, Journey class. And one Herald class Assault carrier."

"Our forces?"

"Twice their size."

"We're in luck then."

"You are lucky, John."

"Don't jinx it now." He said, as the airlock hissed open.

The external temperature on John's MJOLNIR HUD read at reasonable levels for his armor. Negative 145 degrees was a simple matter for a mint condition Mk VI. Unfortunately, the suit currently in use was far from being in a satisfactory state. It was the same suit he had worn when dumped out of the interrupted portal, and hadn't seen repair or even standard maintenance in months.

Ignoring the slight chill that he shouldn't have felt, John began traversing the coolant pipes.

With the advent of the _Autumn_ Fusion Drive, named so after the ship it was pioneered on, direct cooling of the fusion core was a thing of the past. However, the ionizing lasers that did the cooling need coolant themselves and this had to be supplied in a more conventional way. And the beacon had been planted in the main piping conduit. If the beacon had an attached explosive, which they often did, there was considerable danger to the main reactor, and by extension the station itself. Since the Conduit room was kept in subzero temperatures, the only person able to defuse the beacon in such an environment was the Master Chief himself.

"Chief. Twelve o'clock."

Cortana's prompt brought the Spartan out of his remising. Dead ahead, crouching astride the main pipe like some kind of malignant beetle, was the beacon. John narrowed his gaze. How something so large managed to get smuggled onboard without anyone noticing was beyond him, but 'how' wasn't his concern.

The Master Chief panned his assault rifle across the surroundings, searching for any sign of camouflaged enemies. Seeing nothing immediate, he touched his hand to the glowing control panel.

"Go."

As Cortana's cool, liquid presence in his mind faded, the chill of the sounding airlessness sunk deeper into his bones.

"Anything?"

Cortana's response wasn't immediate. Before the Halo Wars her diagnostics would have only taken a second –less than a second- to complete. Now however…

'It's not a bomb." The puzzlement in her voice told him nothing. "It's really only a beacon."

"Any idea why?"

"No. But it's done its job. They're here." She said, referring to the small Brute fleet outside.

"Can you shut it off?"

"Not from here. It's hard wired directly into the machinery itself. You're going to have to break it."

"It's what I do best. What's the best way?"

"Well, the battery itself is right behind the control panel, no protection to speak off. Just put a round into it and it'll blow, though I wouldn't advise standing to close to it when you do."

The Master Chief frowned. "Will it damage the pipes?" he reached forward and retried Cortana from the beacon's systems.

"Thankfully not." Was the reply. "Let's get it done so you can get some sleep. I think you'll need it, Chief."

As if on command the beacon gave a shudder. Silently, the sides of the structure began to fold out, almost like a flower blooming.

"Cortana?" John's question was sharp.

"I- I don't know. I thought I checked everything!" Her fearful reply was tinged with bitterness and disgust, both most likely directed upon herself. "It must be a separate system."

Fortunately, the beacon did not suddenly explode and kill them both. Instead, a projector unfolded out the top of what was the beacon and produced a hologram. What the hologram revealed however, was far from comfortable.

"Greetings, Demon." The guttural growl of a Brute Chieftain, his rank easily identifiable due to his ornate headpiece, came in through his helmet speakers. "It is good to see you again."

John said nothing.

Ignoring his non-response, the Chieftain continued. "You have slain thousands of our brethren, both directly and indirectly, and for that you have my grudging respect and undying hatred."

"I don't want or need your respect."

"Ah," Said the chieftain, a vicious smile appearing on his features. "But it is important to show respect at someone's last rights, is it not? I believe that is a custom among your kind." He spat 'kind' out like it was a vile curse.

"Regardless." the Brute continued, not waiting for a response. "I have come here to share something with you." He scratched his chin. "You seem to think us beaten. That your rampant murdering of our leaders and race would cause us to stop, to fold like pages in the moldy book of Human History. But I am here to tell you it means _nothing!"_

"Tell me, Demon. How many worlds have humanity's footsteps defiled? A thousand? More? And you have been Space faring for, what? Two centuries? We, who have been sailing the Forerunner's skies for far, FAR longer, have more worlds than you cold possibly know."

"We… Brutes… as you call us. The ones that joined The Covenant. Are a splinter group, a fragment of a fragment. The rest of our race lives far from here, and we do not contact our agnostic brothers. But once they realize the extent of our plight, they will come."

The Brute laughed. "As will retribution. Upon you all."

"And now it is time to say good bye." The Jiralhanae sighed, almost sadly. "As much as I would like to take your head myself in combat, I must take the dishonorable path. That of an assassin. I, Kanterous, shall see you off this mortal coil."

A soft smile adorned Kanterous' black furred face. "We shall not meet again, Spartan."

"For tonight you dine in hell!"

The hologram winked out.

There was a pause.

"Cortana? How accurate is that beacon?"

John could almost _feel _her frown. "Down to the millimeter. Why?" He could also almost feel her eyes widen.

"Chief! Incoming!"

Then everything happened at once.

John brought his rife to bear and fired one round at point blank range. This bullet shattered the delicate Covenant keyboard and buried itself into the plasma battery cell underneath.

The wave of blue energy hit the Master Chief like a hammer.

At that same instant the armored ceiling of the Conduit room bucked inwards to allow the passage of a searing, blue comet.

Time seemed to slow down for John.

He felt his gun spiral out of his hand.

He felt the second shockwave as the torpedo detonated.

He distantly felt pain as a piece of shrapnel scythed its way through his right forearm.

And he most definitely felt the agonizing cold that penetrated all the way to his core as he was incased in burning cold coolant.

The last thing he heard was Cortana calling his name.

**PRESENT**

Samus gave him a long look. "You can really be dramatic once you get rolling."

He spread his hands. "It's not something I get to do, often."

"Fair enough…"

Now it was John's turn to give a look. "Can you tell me why none of us," Referring to the 13th Re-Seeds, "Have ever heard of any of you?" Referring to the civilizations that he now knew had existed well before his sleep.

"Good question." Samus responded. "And I expected it. Here," She once again utilized the big screen to display an image. This time, a large three dimensional map of the galaxy spiraled into existence. The map shifted, until only particular arm was displayed.

"We," she said. "Are here." A small circle was highlighted.

"I found you, here." Another red circle appeared this one further along the cluster of stars. One the map it was only a displacement of around ten centimeters, but in reality it was millions and millions of kilometers.

"And this!" A red line appeared between the two points. "Is what we call the _Dead Line._" The line was revealed to be part of a small circle which encompassed a minute chunk of the galaxy within its radius. The line itself was a centimeter thick.

"It's called such because everything along that line is _dead_."

The screen began to cycle through a series of captured images, showing planet after planet. Some were blackened husks. Others had thick red veins of liquid magma crisscrossing the dead surface in crazy, spider web patterns. Some even looked like someone had taken a hammer to them, great chucks of what used to be the surface now floated in low orbit.

"Not even microscopic organisms exist on any planet along this line." Samus stated.

Though not bothered by the images of planetary devastation, having seen many of their type over the years, John couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding.

"What caused it?"

Samus jammed her thumb over her shoulder at the screen, not taking her gaze of the man sitting before her.

"I don't know. Maybe you can tell me?"

John looked at the bridge's main screen. An image of a distant series of lights -stars- filled the screen. However, one pinprick of light was glowing rapidly closer to the screen. The focused object very quickly came into sharp relief, revealing a shape the Master Chief recognized all too well.

"Not again…"

A large ring shaped superstructure filled the screen, just like it filled the Chief's gut with disgust.

"I've already told you about the Halos and their purpose." He said, bitterness flavoring his comment.

Samus clicked her fingers and the image panned. "Ah. But _this _is not a Halo."

Aran watched as John's face shifted from mostly hidden frustration to barely concealed puzzlement. She wasn't surprised.

Whilst similar in shape, there were significant differences between these particular constructions and the Superweapons John had described to her. Instead of a single enormous ring, the structure was made up of three rings, one inside the other, each smaller then the last. In addition, the rings all span on a different axis, resulting in a semi-globe made of lazily turning blades. The final difference was that none of the rings showed any hint of the artificial planetary surface that had been described to her.

"What is it?"

She turned her attention to the image. "We, meaning the civilizations of the Galaxy, call it an Implementer. And it is the only piece of technology known to be able to generate an Absolution Field. There are twenty of them, and they are the reason for the _Dead Line._"

Her audience raised an eyebrow. "Absolution Field? Now who's dramatic?"

"That's not important!" She snapped. "It's called an Absolution Field because nothing with mass can enter it without being instantly destroyed. Anything outside the visible light spectrum gets annihilated." She knuckled her forehead. "Give me a second. The physics behind this is complicated."

A few seconds later she was ready to continue.

"The Implementers emit a constant stream of charged particles. Very much like the disruption field. What kinds of particles they are, we don't know. None of our scanning equipment survives contact long enough to get a reading. These rays interact with molecules on a super-atomic level. They then crack the smallest sub-element of an atom and separate it into energy strings. These are then allowed to dissipate." Samus listed off each point on her finger. "Do you understand?"

"So anything that comes into contact with this field…?"

"Evaporates, yes. The barrier formed by the Implementers sealed everything within this circle from everything else. Basically, everything you've ever known happened within this circle."

"It's small." He said contemplatively.

John nodded his head in appreciation. However;

"Then, how did you find me? I thought these Implementers were impassable?"

"They were, until the field disappeared around one hundred and fifty years ago." She gave him a pointed look. "You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"

"No, that's impossible. If I'm as old as you say then there's no way I was last awake then."

"Then why did they shut down?"

"Did the Halo's have something to do with it, perhaps?"

"Ah." Samus' voice seemed to grow a little sarcastic. "About that. I can't find them."

At these words a piercing looked was shot in her direction.

"What?"

"I can't find them. They don't exist."

"That's-"

"Impossible, yes, you say that a lot. Regardless, there's no indication that these instillations ever existed. No headlines anywhere within the past thirty thousand years mentioning their discovery, no current information on their whereabouts, not even media blackouts on the areas where you said they were. Nothing."

"Surely someone ran into them at one point or another! Weapons of last resort don't disappear like that!" As his agitation increased so too did his rate of breathing.

'Perhaps we he shouldn't have had so much alcohol…'

"Calm down. You're starting to freak-out over something so small."

"Small?! This isn't small!" During his rant, the frustrated supersoldier had risen to his feet, looking both furious and angry in equal amounts.

At this point Samus' hand snapped out, grabbed the enraged man by the front of his clothes and bashed her forehead into his.

"CALM DOWN!" Equally enraged, Samus roared directly into his face, directly into his fully dilated pupils. With skill born of years of fighting, the blonde haired woman adjusted her grip and pitched her opponent over the table.

The Master Chief had only had enough time to clench his fists before he became airborne.

This time when he hit the ground he didn't roll with the blow, and instead winced gently as the back of his head cracked upon the metal deck. The blow had brought him back to his senses, but Samus hadn't seemed to have realized this and came down on him like a suitably heavy amount of bricks, her forearms pinning his humerus bones down and her forelegs securing his lower body.

"Ok, Ok. I'm back." Using the restricted movement of his arms, John raised his hands in a show of harmlessness. "And you might want to adjust your shirt." He looked at the neck of her shirt. "Your shirt is loose."

A pregnant pause ensued.

"It's about this time in a conversation," John remarked, "That certain derogatory comments would be thrown around."

Another pause.

"Where's O'Icun?"

"Offline." Samus said directly, getting to her feet and brushing herself off, apparently not bothered by him seeing down her shirt. "AI's with infinite development potential have to go offline for a couple of hours every couple of days. Stops routine decay."

"Seven year cap?" Rolling upright, John touched the back of his head with his hand and studied the blood that came back with it.

"More like seventy."

Samus was quite surprised when John's face grew a slight shade of sadness. "That's a little disheartening."

"Why." She was instantly curious about what could give him that kind of expression.

"My-" A pause. "The AI I worked with died while I was sleeping. She had nearly two years left before her seven year cap, yet she was decaying well before." A depressing sigh escaped his lips. "I-"

The discussion was suddenly interrupted when the screen lit up with the announcement of an incoming call. Samus, looking at the caller ID and urgency indicator, gave John an apologetic look.

"It's a work call." She grimaced. "Could you…"

"I understand." He waved a hand at the back of his head. "I have to go put something on this anyway."

As soon as John disappeared behind the closing door she answered the call.

Instantly, the screen was filled up with the visage of what appeared to be a large reptile. In reality it didn't look much different from an ordinary lizard, if you discounted the solidity of the head. Crowned with row after row of spines, the creature on the screen tilted one side of its head towards Samus, studying her with one yellow eye. It's jaw opened slightly, revealing teeth that made it seem less like a lizard and more like some prehistoric monster.

"Samus."

It rumbled, somehow managing to form the syllables despite not having any lips

Samus bowed her head respectfully.

"Commandant."

There was a tense silence; the only sound present was the wheezing of in-taken breath from the being on the screen.

The stillness was broken. "Do you mind…?" It inhaled, "Telling me where you've been…" Another inhalation. "For the past six months?"

It brought one scaly claw to its face, in view of the screen, and made a five fingered fist with a series of violent cracks. "Do you… have any idea… what your 'In' pile looks like?"

The object of his attention cringed ever so slightly.

"I've had…" The Commandant emitted a deep guttural growl. "Imyrnov doing it for you… Do you… have any idea… how much he complains… about doing that? He goes on… and on… and on… and on." With another exhalation the commandant seemed to deflate. Hunching over slightly, the array of spines on his head flared. "As much as I'd… like to cut you down… to size right now… I have a job for you…"

The commandant disappeared off the screen, reappearing seconds later with a pad.

"We have been getting... some rather… strange… readings out of… Arcadi… I need someone I can trust… to get there… and survey the situation first hand. Until then… I want you under com silence... No one must know… about this… I want it Black… No witnesses… no media… understood?"

"Ah." Samus said. "About that. Do you reckon you could set up a new Hunter's Account? First class, Unrestricted?"

On the other side of the transmission the Commandant groaned and rubbed the front of his scaled snout with his knuckles.

"Whoever you have… lined up… must be good… You don't ask… for an unrestricted license… on a whim…"

Samus grinned. "Oh he is, Sir. I have a good feeling about him."

The Commandant nodded. "I hope so... I can't keep letting… things like this… slide... The economy is in shambles… I need all hands… on deck…"

"See you soon, Sir."

The transmission ended.

* * *

**There were times when I despaired at getting this out at all.**

**And I just had finals…**

**Well, it's over triple length, so I guess that makes up somewhat. (Please Please Please)**

**I know that converting ethanol to tyrosine inside a stomach is impossible. You **_**might **_**be able to do it with a nuclear reactor and a particle accelerator. Tyrosine comes from specific types of protein. Mostly from stuff like cheese. So the more cheese you eat, the longer your adrenaline rushes can last.**

**I also know that the figures the Brute gave are incorrect, it's a generalization.**

**Please tell me if it was too silly! I'm trying to pass Samus off as a friendly relaxed type with a bit of a mean/bitter streak.**

**John is just trying to cope using methods he's never had the opportunity to experience before, unwinding and relaxing. **

**The silliness will only be for chapters like this, most combat chapters will have barely any. **

**I'll also answer any questions you might have.**

**And this is the final recap chapter (apart from situational ones). From here on out, the real story begins. **

**I really don't deserve you guys! Whilst the number of readers has dwindled, I accept that, it's my own fault. To you still reading:**

**Thank you**

**And Onward!!**

* * *


	19. Fire Flight

**Places To Go**

**Happy New Year!**

**I know I said that last chap would be the last Info Chap… but there's a little here too, and the events here will be explained next chapter Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I didn't get the rights for Christmas so I don't own anything connected with this story.**

**Speech: **"Speech"

**Thoughts: **'Thoughts'

**Change off scene: ……….**

* * *

_WHUMP_

"We've arrived on target. Location: Arcadi, Fourth Sector DMZ Gate. Now running silent.

Primary engines within full operation parameters.

White Space Jump Module at five percent and charging.

Emergency Jump Module at one hundred percent.

Distortion Signature: Zero.

Electronic Signature: Negligible.

Heat Signature: Minimum.

ECMCM Software: On standby.

Probability of detection…" O'Icun paused.

"Zero percent. We're safe."

Samus sighed in relief. "John!" She said. "Are there any signs of movement out there?"

In response John panned forty of his primary cameras in wide arcs around the ship, trying to catch a glimpse of anything out of the ordinary.

"Nothing out there." He stated. "Just rocks… Actually, it's just one rock."

"Good. We're in the right place then. That asteroid was put there deliberately to keep all ships behind it safe from Arcadi's Sensor Sweeps." Samus put five percent into the engines, the resulting thrust slowly moving the ship away from the Jump gate. "As long as we're in its shadow we'll be fine."

John zoomed in on the large asteroid. It was massive, nearly two kilometers in radius around its smallest edge (and four times that from tip to tail), dimensions which resulted in an ovular shape.

On the dark side of the rock were several blinking lights, as well as several small, protruding structures.

"Is there a base in that rock?" Upon closer inspection the Master Chief could identify a humanoid shape visible through the only observation window.

"It's small." Samus supplied. "Ten rooms, max. It's got a shuttle docking station, drone bay, ECM suite, a couple of other things… and that's really it. I was stationed out here for a week as an Overseer during one of my many stints in the Marines." She gave a short noise of dissatisfaction. "It's hell. Double shifts at all times, crappiest food I've ever tasted, and most of the personnel are marines there for disciplinary action."

Samus brought the ship to a stop, barely ten meters from the small base. At soon as the measured speed dropped to zero, a cable shot out of one of the protrusions and attached itself to the hull.

A sharp crackle was heard over the speakers. "State your presence here! This is a restricted area."

Samus just rolled her eyes. She pressed a button on the display and waited for the transferal of information.

Thirty seconds later the response came in. "…Everything looks good. You may proceed. I probably won't have to tell you to be careful, but just in case, be careful. If you're found out we're all dead, understood?"

Samus just muttered under her breath and pulled away from the base, nearly tearing off the cable in her haste.

"Bureaucrats should die!"

"That's a bit of an overreaction, Samus." O'Icun tried to clam her down, as futile as that may have been. "That's not the kind of wait you normally associate with a 'Delay Rant' with."

"Did you forget the three hours on the other side of the Jump Gate?" She shot back.

"Well…" O'Icun was definitely sheepish. "I figured you'd coped well with the delay. I mean… you didn't freak out and shoot anyone."

Samus looked out the bow window.

"That _is_ a rather large stationary target right there…"

"Do that and we're dead."

"Hey." John interrupted. "I know keeping me in dark about the situation good fun, but do you mind telling me-"

"Nooo. It's dark because that helmet isn't transparent."

"Shut up, O'Icun." Samus skewered the hologram of the AI with a glare. "We'll tell you when we're on our way out of here. We can't waste time."

"Alright." He figured that if both Samus and O'Icun were being tight lipped about something he would have to work hard to get them to say anything. Although, perhaps they had just gotten used to him and assigned him assumed knowledge. Being treated like a member of a team was unusual.

'Johnson said that I was; 'so used to kicking ass by myself that I forgot that each ass has another cheek for a friend to plant their boot,' or something like that.'

It was odd. As John watched Samus and O'Icun bite back and forth, certain realizations came to the forefront of his mind. Before his freeze he would have bothered feeling everything he felt now. Sure, the feelings were there, but he would often just ignore them, suppress them, and sometimes not even recognize them. At that time, his occasional heated altercations with Samus would have caused some serious consequences, but then again he would never have dreamed of acting like that during the entire duration of his old life. He was supposed to be silent, impassive. Orders and confirmations would be all he spoke and idle chatter would have been a waste of everything from time to oxygen.

Now he wouldn't even call himself a professional. But for some reason he didn't mind.

'I have emotions now.' John could safely say that he was 'pleased' with that thought.

He had to admit, he was enjoying his life. He was no longer regarded as some kind of fire spewing, plasma vomiting, metal wrapped machine of death. Or at least, he was no longer an exception to the rule. It seemed that there were individuals in this galaxy that had skills and abilities equal to –and perhaps greater than- his own.

'Samus herself could be described as a fire spewing machine of death…

Or maybe she's just a woman…'

**……….**

"Keep an eye on those readouts. If any of them breach their parameters, deal with them."

"On it." The described readouts covered a good portion of John's HUD, all of which had titles like _Plasma Radiation Index, _and _Matter Fold Indicator. _

Fortunately had had read the users manual.

"Underway."

If space hadn't been a vacuum, the soft roar of the main engines would have been heard as the ship pulled away. Looking through the nose display, John got a good look at the planet that was directly in their path. Whilst still a ways off, the gas giant filled that particular screen, its edges highlighted by diffracted light from the sun beyond it.

"We'll shade jump. Keep our signature as low a possible." Samus kept a monologue going as weaved between the occasional pieces of debris. "Hopefully they'll be a piece large enough to hide behind soon; otherwise we could be stuck here for hours… days even."

"No." O'Icun interjected. "I think we'll be ok. The Tenarch gave good timing. The main bulk of the Greater Ring is on its way."

"Good." Samus said offhandedly. "We have ETA in two hours." She continued in a no-nonsense manner, which John felt was rather unusual behavior for the fiery tempered blonde. "I want complete silence from here on in. There was a recon squad out here once, probably a deep stealth Op, when a teammate sneezed too close to the comm. The feedback got them pinged."

"Pinged?"

"Vaporized."

**………..**

"Fuel cores seven through to nineteen are starting to breach five percent. I'm extracting them, now." John made the necessary adjustments, withdrawing the thirteen pylons and plugging in one of the reserve batteries.

While the solid plasma engines were efficient and produced minimal heat, running on low power was dangerous if left unmonitored. Like a shirt half dipped in water, the charge would soak into the core until the reaction began to occur outside the sealed reactor, often with face melting results.

One of John's jobs was to stop this from happening. The others were all the same;

Vent the accumulated heat in small amounts. Dump the unconverted carbon dioxide into the holding tanks. These things all had to be monitored. Or bad things would happen.

Apparently.

"We'll arrive at the waypoint in forty minutes. A quick scan there and we can get the hell out."

It had been an hour since they had 'changed shade.' That is, changing from the protection of one silhouette to another. In this case that of a large asteroid. The next step on their jump was a Gas giant, whose huge radiation signature was enough to hide ships in plain sight.

Samus gave her display another look. The Arcadi system had once been the jewel of the galaxy, the largest localized gravity well in the known federation. Over three hundred planets, nearly two hundred thick asteroid belts and countless moons and dwarf planets orbiting around one super-massive and yet still healthy sun.

Now however, only a desolated system remained, populated by the few remaining gas giants, and the biggest debris field to ever exist.

And what was worse was that that happened _before _the Incident.

Her musing was interrupted by a message from O'Icun.

_Samus, we have two _very _large asteroids with an intersecting path about twelve light seconds from us. If Arcadi protocol has remained the same, which it probably has, then we're in for a light show. _

Samus felt a light shiver pass through her. There was firepower…

And then there was Arcadi.

"John." She said softly. "Look out camera number thirty six and focus on the massive asteroid in the distance. You're about to get a display like no other."

**……….**

_01110111 01100001 01110010 01101110 01101001 01101110 01100111_

_Large impact of extra-extensional spatial bodies imminent in sector 14-5-AY1. Advise-_

_Calculated Prediction: Resultant path diversion could threaten facilities if not suitably handled. _

_Recommend preemptive operation designation. _

_Selecting-_

_Selecting-_

_Selecting…_

_Selection Complete…_

_Operation routine designated…_

_Unzipping Operation "Mass Removal."_

_Activating in: _

_3…_

_2…_

_1…_

_01110111 01100001 01110010 01101110 01101001 01101110 01100111_

**……….**

"What was that?" John was stunned, more stunned than he had even been in his life. "What was _that_?"

Where once there had been two huge space boulders, all that remained was a soup of melted rocks, ash, dust clouds and ionized particles.

Just before the two mammoth asteroids had hit each other, a wave of laser fire had swept in from deeper in-system and pierced the rocks.

Unfortunately, neither the words _wave _nor _pierced_ actually described what had occurred at that moment.

The word _wave_ is used to describe a volley, a barrage of something. The comparison was the equivalent of saying that a wave of fire from a 9mm pistol was in the same category as a wave of bunker busting, laser-guided, four hundred megaton nukes fired at the same target.

And the word _pierced _refers to something going through something else. In this case, it was as if someone was piecing a pincushion with railway line sleeper bolts.

A hundred of them.

At the same time.

Each red beam of light had been thinker than the ship, according to the rangefinders, and the targeting computer put the number of beams somewhere between three and four hundred.

"Did you see that?" John asked incredulously, as he replayed the video of the demolition on his screen. "Those energy streams moved faster than the speed of light!"

Samus gave an affirmative grunt. "It's an effect called Group Velocity, when the bleed off of energy from a traveling particle causes a simultaneous reaction in the next particle in line, creating a new source of energy release without the initial release arriving. And this stacks."

"How does that work in a vacuum?"

"They're not sure." O'Icun interjected. "Scientists I mean. The energy used in the firing of those weapons is so great, that they react with _everything _in their path. And everything could include anything, from dark matter, to perhaps the fabric of space itself."

"That's incredible..." Just thinking about it gave John a weird giddiness in his gut. 'A ship killing sniper rife? _That _would have been handy.'

As the ship hurtled on, each member of the crew locked in their own silence (or awe), they neglected to notice the cone of debris that were created when the hull speared into the remains of the deceased asteroids.

However, someone else did.

**……….**

_01110111 01100001 01110010 01101110 01101001 01101110 01100111_

_Non-standard matter interaction detected. Advise-_

_Insufficient data for complete analysis. Recommend action delay…_

_Initializing-_

_Initializing-_

_Initializing…_

_Plan Complete…_

_Next stage: (Information pending)_

_(Waiting)_

_(Waiting)_

_(Waiting)_

_Plan Complete…_

_Recommend preemptive operation designation. _

_Selecting-_

_Selecting-_

_Selecting…_

_Selection Complete…_

_Operation routine designated…_

_Unzipping Operation "Overbearing Force."_

_(Waiting)_

_(Waiting)_

_(Waiting)_

01110111 01100001 01110010 01101110 01101001 01101110 01100111

**……….**

"Releasing drones."

With a clank, four small orbs detached from the airlock, each one giving a quick blink of red light before disappearing into the thick clouds of mustard colored gas that composed the outermost atmosphere of the gas giant.

"That's done. We're out of here." Samus turned her hands inside the control mechanisms, spinning the ship on its axis, sending it deeper into the clouds. "The drones go off in two hours. We have that long before our presence is confirmed. We _should _reach the gate before then."

John disengaged his helmet, sliding it off and placing it aside. With all the cameras smothered by the dirty yellow fog there was no need for him to wear the CPN.

"Isn't the gate light years in that direction?" He jammed a thumb over his shoulder.

"One of them is." Samus had busied herself with the ship's display, flicking between different views, attempting to get something that could pierce the fog. "There's a second in the tail of this gas giant."

"Tail?"

"The gas on this planet is heavy enough that streams of it get spun out into space by the force of rotation. These trail along behind it like a comet, and create a very large dampening field. The gate hides there."

"Why didn't we come in through that gate?"

"Gates discharge a great deal of energy when ejecting a ship. It would be noticed even within the field." Samus turned back to her HUD. "Okay, John. I think we should be cloaked at twenty five percent engine output, so bring it up."

He did so.

"No oddities." O'Icun reported. "ETA in one and a half hours."

**……….**

_01110111 01100001 01110010 01101110 01101001 01101110 01100111_

_Engine tremors detected in Sector 14-5-DU2. Advise-_

_Sensor interference hindering accurate detection. Accuracy at thirty four percent._

_Recommend detailed search…_

_Selecting-_

_Selecting-_

_Selecting…_

_Selection Complete…_

_Operation routine designated…_

_Unzipping Operation "Spread Fire."_

_Activating in: _

_3…_

_2…_

_1…_

_01110111 01100001 01110010 01101110 01101001 01101110 01100111_

**……….**

Samus looked at the timer.

"We're making record time. Most OP's into Arcadi take double this length of time to complete."

"There's a reason for that." O'Icun suggested. "Captains of ships are generally not impatient, loud, violent and don't often have a psychotic streak a mile wide."

There was a pause, like the time when you realize that you've just ingested one and a half liters of off orange juice and are waiting for the inevitable end.

"Off."

O'Icun's image frowned. "Oh, you son of a bi-"

He then disappeared.

"I'm sick of him!" She gave a drawn-out grunt of displeasure. "I can't believe that he's worse than when he was alive! I just-"

She froze as the temperature on the bridge instantly spiked to an uncomfortable level.

"John!" She barked as she turned back to the controls. "I need shielding at full, ECMCM System on automatic and engine power at two hundred and fifty percent. ASAP!"

"Got it!" Now in full combat mode, John hammered the helmet back onto his head. As soon as he had done as instructed Samus slammed the throttle forward, which in turn slammed John back into his seat.

What they were running from quickly became apparent. Massive holes were opening up in the gas field as the enormous Vector Lasers dissolved everything in their path.

Each near miss bled enough heat into the hull to overload some secondary systems, and a deep groaning could be heard as random segments of the ship's structure expanded and contracted between the residual heat of the lasers and the chill of space.

"You said we couldn't be detected!" John shouted over the background noise.

"We haven't been!" Samus shot back. "At least, not accurately. Otherwise we wouldn't even know we'd been hit."

"We're still being shot at!"

**……….**

Within the bowels of the ship, an angry red glow had begun to tinge the walls of the engine room, and had someone been there, they would have noticed the prevalent smell of burning ozone.

**……….  
**

Samus' face was a mask of concentration. She had to balance things out perfectly; otherwise things would not turn out well. Each Laser burst created large corridors of empty space where the scanning dampening effect of the cloud no longer had an effect, and as advanced as their ECMCM system was, it was nothing compared to Arcadi's own Countermeasure software. Keeping out of these corridors was paramount. But each evasive maneuver cost them time, time which they didn't have.

Samus looked at the display.

_Current Performance Level: 250 Percent (Exceeds Recommended)_

_Engine Exhaust Tempe: 2.5k Degrees (Exceeds Recommended)_

_Engine Core Temp: 3k Degrees (Exceeds Recommended)_

_Total Propulsion System Integrity: 56 Percent_

_Meltdown in: 28 Seconds_

_ETA in: 25 Seconds_

"O'Icun On." Samus grudgingly admitted that she needed his help right now.

It only took him a second to analyze the situation.

"Remind me how you survived this long if these are the situations you get into when I'm not around…"

Not willing to risk their safety by listening to his banter until _after _she could safely kick his ass, Samus ignored him.

"Code the gate." Short and sharp. Captain mode.

It only took two seconds.

"Done." O'Icun reported.

"Spartan 117!" John snapped to attention upon hearing his old designation number. "I need afterburner. Maximum strength. One second burst. Drain cores five through to twenty five."

Going into full 'Spartan mode,' John completed his instructions nearly as fast as O'Icun.

"Critical Integrity Warning." He read off the message he got back from the ship's internal diagnostic.

Samus fingered the ignition button while glaring at the screens in front of her, each one a bright red with a vibrant, yellow colored 'WARNING.'

"Disregard."

Samus pressed the button.

**………**

The six engine exhausts cut out at that instant. There were silent for a few precious seconds. Then each exploded, spewing large plumes of blue flame directly into the gaseous clouds that surrounded them, mixing in a vibrant display of space art.

Inside the confines of the ship the effect was less beautiful and rather more painful.

**……….**

John felt the massive weight of the extreme acceleration rather rapidly. It was actually more crushing than anything he had experienced before. It was so great that he could feel the edges of his vision begin to darken as blood was drained away from his eyes.

Samus too, was crushed into her seat and unable to move due to the enormous pressure. She could feel her hands straining against the hold of the controls.

O'Icun however had no physical body for the Gs to affect, and so managed to observe his surroundings in no discomfort.

'ETA in 3…

2…

1…

* * *

**I didn't like this chapter at all…**

**Why? WHY?! Why does my Chief always end up so OOC??? The problem is that I need him to be slightly out of character, but I think I keep taking it too far. If anyone can give me replacement dialogue that you reckon would suit him better -for any chapter- let me know (Remember to keep him slightly different from how he would react in game).**

**I've been thinking of calling the Ship the Penitent Zero or Zero Tangent… Because it's mostly red like Penitent Tangent was (He wasn't really but you get the idea).**

**And thanks to rockrave500 for the 'Zero' idea.**

**Onward!! (Shatters the 40,000 word barrier)**


	20. Head Space

**Head Space**

**I now work… And I work in the Recession Proof industry of electricity generation and distribution. Hell yeah.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is mine, nothing else. Well, the OC's will be mine too. But those of you who don't like OC's please bare with me. The Metroid universe is sorely lacking in character material, and OC's are a great plot device. I will never, EVER use Super-OC's… for they disgust me. My OC's will be logical and likable, guaranteed! (I hope…)**

* * *

Johnson kicked his legs off the side of the massive cliff, allowing them to swing back and thump back against it once they lost their momentum. Taking a long drag from his Sweet William he held his breath, allowing the smoke to circulate in his lungs, before expelling it off the plateau in a perfectly formed smoke ring.

After watching it float away for a few moments, Johnson turned to his companion, who's muddied, armored boots were resting against the cliff-side like his own. Taking out another cigar he handed it out to the Chief.

"Want one?" He asked.

Waving his hand in the negative, John continued to stare out at the sunset tinged vista.

"Your loss." Johnson said with a grunt.

Taking another drag, the Sergeant Major began to rattle on about things John only half listened too. He was a little distracted.

"You're smoking."

"Huh?" Johnson gave him a weird look.

"You're smoking." The Chief repeated.

"I thought that was obvious!" He exclaimed, waving the cigar back and forward in front of John's face.

"No." The non-smoker pointed at his friend's back.

Johnson twisted his head, raising his eyebrow at the wisps of cigar smoke that crawled over his shoulder blade.

"Hrmm." Reaching around with his hands he traced the large hole which adorned his lower left side. "Forgot about that."

"You forgot about a hole, ten centimeters in diameter, which severed your spinal cord and penetrated your left lung?"

"Hey!" Johnson stubbed out his cigarette on John's gold visor. "Zombie boys can't talk, son!"

The response was rather bitter. "And dead men can't smoke cigars."

**……….**

John was woken by a staccato of rapid knocks. He initially ignored them, as his head was still swimming with the after effects of a migraine. However, a second series of bangs forced him to pull his head out of the pillows of his too-small bunk. Stumbling to the door he tapped it with one finger, causing a section to go translucent and revealing the outside corridor. Not recognizing the figure on the far side of the door, John resignedly opened it when it became apparent that person wasn't going to leave.

"Yes?" He asked in a clear voice, not allowing any indication of his previous tired state to be evident in front of a stranger. His eyes were still slightly squinted against the brightly lit corridor, however.

"Are you Sierra, Sir?" The young man standing in front of the Chief inquired.

Sleepy or not, the Chief was still quick on his feet, and he easily recognized his old code-name. "Yes. That's me."

"Ah, good." The man handed John a thin plastic card with four stripes of yellow on it. "Here is your Level 4 Keycard. It will give you access to all civilian decks, the hangar and the Bridge. When unescorted on the Bridge or in the Hangar bays make sure you wear this out in the open. If you are still halted by personnel at those locations show them this stripe." He turned the card over and pointed at the other side. "They should let you go after that. All civilian corridors and areas are marked in yellow," The man gave a quick gesture towards the wall behind him. "Engineering areas are marked in green and sensitive military areas are marked in red. If you are caught inside a military area without the proper clearance you are liable to be shot on sight. The Hangar is an engineering level and the bridge is unclassified, so you should be able to explain yourself to any soldiers you encounter before they shoot you as long as you remain within those areas."

He took a breath.

"If a combat situation occurs while you are alone, please put this card into one of the many wall terminals and give a retina scan. This will stop the automated defense system from designating you as an enemy. If you can't find a terminal, stand with your hands against the wall, as this too will stop the system from shooting you. Just don't move until someone finds you."

Another breath. "Did you get all that all that?"

John gave a slow nod.

The man visibly deflated. "Oh, good. I'd hate to go through it all again." He rubbed the back of his head and gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry about the long tutorial. You wouldn't believe how many visitors get lost on this ship, and then shot as a result."

There wasn't really much John could say to that.

"Anyway, to get to the bridge you need to get to the ship's tram system and take the bridge line. Don't try and walk, it'll take forty minutes. Just follow the signs to the station." He consulted his watch. "The Admiral will see you whenever you arrive."

John gave a silent nod.

The other man snapped his fingers. "Oh! Almost forgot. Welcome aboard the GMCU Ishimura." With that, he gave a crisp salute and marched off.

Closing the door, John gave a look at the card, still not one hundred percent sure what he was supposed to be doing.

'Getting to the bridge is the first objective in any case.' He decided, shrugging out of his slept-in clothes and into the tiny shower attached to his small room.

**…………**

"So the gate wasn't hit?"

Samus heavily synthesized voice caused the Admiral to stop pacing. The grey bearded, white haired CO turned to face the red armored bounty hunter. "No. As far as we know, none of the shots managed to hit the gate, probably through some sort of miracle. We both know that if it really wanted too, Arcadi could pour firepower into that cloud bank until it hit it everything in there, once again it's decided to stay logical and do things it's own way." He turned around and speared Samus with a pointed finger. "But I'll let you know, if that gate had been destroyed I would have had you court-martialed so hard-"

"I'm not a member of the Corps anymore, Clarke." Samus rebutted from her seat on one of the bridge's command chairs.

Clarke just grunted and looked out the main display window, a view which only showed stars.

"Regardless, that's still Admiral Clarke to you! I haven't fought wars for eighty years in order to be disrespected by kids less than a quarter of my age!"

Samus just sat in silence.

"Maybe you should come back to the Corps?" Admiral Clarke said softly, giving his own command chair an affectionate pat. "Last time I checked you held the rank of Commodore, right? With your track record, give yourself five years and I could see you standing here on this bridge wearing my hat."

"You don't wear the hat, Clarke."

"Of course not. Too itchy... And I thought I told you to call me by my title!"

"Only if you call me by mine." The smugness in Samus' voice still made it through the voice distorter.

Clarke snorted. "Sure thing, Four Star Hunter Lance-Commandant S'Amus Aran."

Before the conversation could continue, the pair was interrupted by a junior officer who, after excusing himself, spoke in the Admirals ear.

"Ah. Thank you, Lieutenant." Clarke said.

The Lieutenant snapped to attention before marching back off the command deck.

Turning back to his companion, Clarke repeated what he'd just been told.

"It appears that your 'friend' is on his way. Boarded the tram ten minutes ago, and should be here shortly." Clarke stroked his finely bristled chin. "Yes, interesting specimen, that one. Rather heavily modified, too. I thought you'd dug yourself up a somewhat coherent 4th, but of course you'd never have anything to do with those filthy, inbred mongrels." Despite the harshness of his words there was no malice in his tone; it was almost like he was simply describing the attributes of a particularly bothersome co-worker. "However, I am curious about why you insisted the medics not take a DNA test. It's standard procedure for any civilians treated in any military facility, and yet you signed a wavier for him."

Clarke smacked the arm of his chair with the flat of his hand. "And in the eight years I've known you, you've never done a favour like this for anyone! What's so special about this guy?"

Samus said nothing for several seconds. Then; "He's got his secrets. And by proxy his secrets are mine. For now, they'll remain that way."

Clarke scratched his moustache and let out a huff. "He'd better not be a danger. To me or my crew."

"He's not, Isaac. I assure you. Though he is-"

The door slid open once again, revealing the Lieutenant from earlier. Standing just behind his shoulder, dressed in what was identifiable as a grey naval uniform, was John. At a motion from the other man John entered the room.

John's eyes roved over Samus' crimson form. Taking the hint he nodded his head in greeting and said nothing else. Turning his gaze to the other occupant in the room he almost snapped to attention. The man sitting across from Samus literally _oozed _military precision. Whilst seemingly in the beginnings of old age, the wispy white hair and wrinkled skin was offset by his powerful physique and broad shoulders. The deep blue uniform he wore signified a higher rank, almost certainly indicating his admiralship. Most noticeable however, was the piece of metal that was apparently bolted over his right eye socket.

"I see you got here alright." The Admiral gave John a quick once-over with his visible eye.

"Yes, Sir."

"Ah!" The corner of the Admiral's eye crinkled as he grinned. "At least _someone _here can show proper respect. At ease, son."

John relaxed, impulsively observing the order of command.

"Take a seat." Clarke gestured at one of the seats, and waited for John to sit before continuing. "Now, what do I call you?"

John flicked his eyes to Samus.

Noticing and taking the hint, Samus muttered her instructions.

"I go by Sierra, Sir."

Clarke looked at him over the top of his steepled fingers. "That's not your real name of course." It wasn't really a question.

"Clarke."

Once again, John's eyes flicked to Samus. There had been a certain tightness in her words, a veiled warning of some kind.

"Yes! Yes. I know, I know. I won't pry into Guild business. Not _my _business." He then stabbed a finger at Samus. "But what is my business is how long you disappeared for. I was stupid enough to let some people know that I was the last person to see you before you disappeared for half a year. And then the inquiries started coming in, along with the threats and love letters. And I'm the one who had to deal with it. What where you doing? And don't say Guild business! I may be old, but I ain't senile!"

Though her helmet shielded her face from view, John could tell Samus had a bored expression on from her general demeanor.

"It's his fault." Came the candid reply. It took the addition occupant o0f the room a second to realize that she was taking about him.

Clarke snorted. "As if anyone would be able to stop you from doing anything, ever."

"Fine." Samus ground out. "I was trying to make a little extra cash. Things got a little complicated."

"Don't believe that either. You have a bank balance large enough to live an _extremely _excessive lifestyle several times over."

Samus seemed to pause.

"You do still have a ridiculous bank balance, right?"

"Not exactly..."

"…Where did it go, Samus?" Now it was the Admiral's turn to be agitated.

The silence stretched out for a while. Finally; "She's a tough target to track."

'She?' John knew of Samus' 'significant other.' Just mentioning the alien clone was enough to set her on edge. He also knew that Samus had dedicated all of her time and decimated her hard earned fortune hunting down the enigmatic individual. Apparently she had turned to mining when she grew bored of the chase; not that mining was really any more interesting.

Clarke's face reddened, veins bulging along his throat. Yet despite the evidence of an incoming eruption Clarke managed to get himself under control.

"What you do with your money is your own business." He said finally, rounding off his statement with a defeated huff. "Besides," He tapped the surface of the large desk he was sitting at. "That scan you got into so much trouble to acquire has just been through the latest analysis."

A concealed projector whirred to life, projecting the image of a female humanoid AI.

"Nicole here has been conversing with your shipboard AI." Nicole gave a short bow. "She has the files collected from the probes. And the results were quite unusual."

Nicole's hologram morphed into a series of graphs, maps, wave-from patterns and other miscellaneous information displays.

"Unless you have more experience with the theory's of space anomalies than I, you won't have any idea what these represent. And I have no idea what this shows." Clarke pointed at a large spike of information. "I got a few teams of this ship's theoretical physicists to investigate this anomaly, and at the moment _none _of them have any idea what it is."

It only took Clarke a few moments to analyze the reactions of the other two occupants of the room. They were both rather easy to read. Samus' unusual stillness and ever-so-slightly stiffened posture, and her companion's furrowed brow and tightened jaw were the warning signs of suppressed knowledge.

"Spill it." Clarke knew that he was pushing things, bounty hunters were notoriously tightlipped, more so than they had any right to be in his opinion.

Finally, Samus spoke.

"I know what that is."

"And?" He gestured impatiently for her to continue.

She turned to her companion and muttered something unintelligible, and he muttered something equally unintelligible back. It took Clarke a few seconds to realize that they were talking in a language that he didn't recognize, and it wasn't just poor hearing on his part.

'Sierra' cleared his throat, bringing Clarke's attention to the man.

"I've had a lot of experience with these things over the years, Sir."

"Get to the point, man! What is it?" The veins which had recently disappeared returned with full force.

He seemed to deliberate with himself a bit more. "It's a Slipspace Rupture, sir."

"A what?" A seasoned veteran of many wars, Clarke's obvious distaste at being in the dark was showing through.

"It's the result of a piece of technology that doesn't exist anymore." Samus supplied, turning her head towards the other towards John. "Or so I'd been led to believe."

**……….**

Arcadi thought.

_It_ spent most of _Its _time thinking, and had been able to think for decades at a time before something of sufficient notice broke _Its _concentration. But now, now it _acted. _For the first time in _Its _existence it began to _move. _

And all because of external input.

_It HATED _external input, but that life-form had said things. Interesting things. Things which wouldn't have occurred to _It, _even if _It _hadhada million years to think to _Itself_.

Now the thoughts that had been thought no longer _remained _as thoughts. Now they were action. Actions of great magnitude. _Galaxy _changing actions.

And all because of that strange life-form that spoke in rhymes.

* * *

**The reason why this is late? Gaming. Here is a list of games I have played (And finished) since last chapter.**

**Dead Space (Obviously)**

**Farcry 2 (Barely a decent game)**

**X3 – Reunion (Fucking Huge)**

**Fracture (One of the shittiest games I've ever played)**

**Fallout 3 (Awesome)**

**Overlord (Clever, but could have been more)**

**Fallout Tactics (Fun but clumsy)**

**Mirror's Edge (Haven't had this much fun since Portal, and the theme song is so good it makes me cry)**

**Nexus – The Jupiter Incident (Great space combat)**

**Gears of War 2 (Everything it should have been)**

**Evil Genius (Is absolute Genius)**

**Earth 2160 (Okay, but full of awesome ideas)**

**That might feed my addiction… for a few weeks. Now to get Halo Wars!**

**Well. I got Dawn of War II, but I don't want to rate it. Why? It's only slightly above average in a sad sense. It's closer to the table top, which is a plus. But is far, **_**far **_**from epic like the first game and expansions. One heavy bolter in a squad of marines does NOT a Devastator squad make. Hell, that's not even a normal marine squad… Four marines is NOT a squad! (Well, I guess five is alright… SHUT UP!)**

**Bad THQ! Bad!**

…**Maybe I did rate it… Well, despite it's short comings, it FELT like 40k. **

**But; you know what we need? 40k: Total War (Drools)**

**Did you know that the average life expectancy of front-line Imperial Guardsmen is 15 hours? How many men would you need to fight a war with that kind of ratio? A lot.**

**And why is this turning into a blog?**

**On a story note… why do all my military guys refer to Chief as Son? Johnson, Clarke and the Commander of the base he got frozen in. All call him that. And by this stage he's older than all of them.**


End file.
